


When We Meet Again

by rainbowpandas, RockyRants



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor being a dick, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use, Dubious consent with Valentino, Emotional Manipulation, Fat Nuggets Emotional Support Animal Extraodinaire, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Historical mob behavior, Historically accurate behavior for the 1930s, Historically accurate behavior for the 1940s, Human!Angel Dust, Human!Husk - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Italian Mafia, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period Typical Bigotry, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Valentino being a bigger dick, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowpandas/pseuds/rainbowpandas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockyRants/pseuds/RockyRants
Summary: When demons fall into Hell, the memories of the life they lived are fresh, as if their lives before had never stopped. But as the years go on, those memories begin to fade like photo negatives exposed to the sun. Soon, there’s very little of the human past they left behind.Angel Dust and Husk are both struggling as they begin to remember their human lives after many years.Anthony and Henry find each other amongst Mob controlled New York.What goes around in life comes around after death.
Relationships: Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 410
Kudos: 498





	1. D-Day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is our baby. After working on this with tireless research, outlining, writing, and rewriting we are so excited to bring this fic to you! 
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events. 
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian stereotypes come from personal experience. 
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

When demons fall into Hell, the memories of the life they lived are fresh, as if their lives before had never stopped. But as the years go on, those memories begin to fade like photo negatives exposed to the sun. Soon, there’s very little of the human past they left behind.

Angel Dust could hardly remember most of his human life. Sure there were snippets, little moments from here and there. A playground. Gunfire. Complicated feelings towards his family; The Family. A kiss. Gentle hands playing with his hair. But most of it was fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream an hour after waking up.

Charlie had been doing her best to help Angel remember his life. She had it in her head that if she could see where Angel “went wrong” in life they could curb those issues in Hell. It was a laughable thought. There were flashes, sure, but 80 years of drugs makes it difficult to remember where you were last week, let alone where you were that long ago. It wasn’t that Angel didn’t want to remember his life. He just couldn’t bring himself to care about the fine details. He could remember how he got to Hell. He remembered the drugs pounding in his head before the nothingness. 

Trying to force himself to remember anything else was about as useful as trying to catch smoke.

_“I love you, Anthony, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”_

Angel blinked awake. Another fuzzy dream. Another memory from a forgotten life… a very familiar sounding voice. At least this one wasn't his dad yelling at him.

He stretched his arms over his head, joints popping as he opened his phone to see what he missed while asleep. Nothing from Val, thank god, a few thirsty DMs from fans who thought they had a chance, and one message from Cherri.  
  
He swiped his finger, opening the text to a picture of a little bag of white powder with a bow attached to it. 

**_Cher Bear: Happy D-Day Bitch! Get over here when you’re conscious._ **

Grinning, Angel scooped Nuggets up into his arms from his small pile of blankets at the foot of his bed. He placed a smooch on the small pig’s head.

“Mornin’, baby. Ya wanna go see Auntie Cherri today?” He cooed, scratching behind Nuggets’ ear. The pig oinked in affirmation. Wiggling out of Angel’s grip, Nuggets trotted over to the closet where his harness and leash were, bringing them back to Angel as the spider laid out his outfit for the day.

Demons celebrated their Death Days in many different ways. For some it was a somber day of a life cut too short. For others it was a day to gripe for attention and gifts, replacing the human birthday they had long forgotten. For many it was a celebration of new found freedom in Hell.

But for Angel Dust it was an excuse to cut off work and get absolutely plastered with Cherri Bomb. Ever since she showed up in Hell it had been much more of a celebration. Before then… Well, before then Angel couldn’t help but always feel down. Hollow. Like something was missing. 

Val had always half celebrated Angel's Death Day in his own way; said that it was the day he found his biggest star. The day his Angel Dust came home. Angel’s earliest solid memory was waking up and finding a purple hand reaching towards him. It hadn’t stopped that hollow feeling. 

At least with Cherri they could celebrate the small freedoms they had in Hell. Being with a friend always made it better. 

Strolling down the stairs with his nose stuck in his phone and one hand holding Nuggets’ leash, Angel hardly noticed Husk until he collided with the other’s shoulder. He dropped his phone with a clatter. Nuggets let out a startled squeal. 

“Hey!”

Husk didn’t turn back. Didn’t make a snide comment. Fuck, he didn’t even smell like booze, despite the fact he was carrying a handle back towards his room. Angel blinked in confusion, picking his phone back up slowly. In the several months he had known Husk, the cat never ignored him so deliberately.

“Hey, Mighty Mite,” he called out to Niffty as he approached the reception desk. Angel jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “What’s the deal with Sour Puss? Someone piss in his liquor or somethin’?”

Niffty zipped from the lobby lounge to the bar, dusting quickly as she went. She paused briefly to scratch Nuggets’ head. 

“Oh, Husker’s always in a bad mood on September 17th. I’m not sure why. He’s never told me,” she shrugged before pouncing on a bug that had dared enter her line of sight, “I’m sure he’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Angel listened as he signed himself out. It was unlikely that he and Husk had the same Death Day. Maybe the gruff bastard was just having a bad day in general. He shrugged.  
  
“Whateva,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll be back after dinner. I’m gonna hang out with Cherri if anyone asks.” He knelt down a bit and clapped his lower hands twice, catching Nuggets as the pig jumped up into them, then made his way out into Pentagram City.

An hour later he was sitting with Cherri in some run-down, nearly abandoned park near the border of Imp City. It was more of a tetanus hazard than a park; monkey bars rusted over, jagged metal jutting out from where a bar had once been on the carousel, swings that creaked and threatened to give out if you so much as looked at them the wrong way. It was perfect. He and Cherri liked to come here when they needed to get out of the house and trip without worrying about some prying-eyed fucks bothering them.

Angel snorted down the line of PCP, tilting his head back to feel the familiar rush. It had been a long, long while since he’d done anything this hard. Between Valentino running him ragged and Charlie not allowing anything harder than weed in the hotel, he’d needed a day like this. Angel glanced over to Fat Nuggets with a smile. He’d attached Nuggets’ leash to the carousel; the tiny pig was running in circles, squealing happily.  
  
“And then-” He said, remembering his train of thought as the drugs began to take over, “Then she kept tryin’ ta get me ta remember the shit from before I ODed. I mean… I barely fuckin’ remember that day, not ta mention anythin' before it!” he cut a line for Cherri, moving so she could take it, “Nosy bitch… like it’s actually gonna do me any good.”  
  
“Do you actually remember that day or are you fucking with her?” Cherri took the rolled up bill and did a line, rubbing her temple as the drugs buzzed in her skull.  
  
“Nah I remember enough of it,” He shrugged as he climbed up the jungle gym and sat on top of the monkey bars, “I remember bein’ alone, I remember feelin’ like shit. I remember fallin’ into this dump. Who cares?"

  
Angel hooked his legs into the metal bars and flipped over, his high mixing with the blood rushing to his head. He released the tension from his body as he let himself dangle upside down.  
  
  
 _New York City June 1925_

_Eight year old Anthony Scavo let his arms dangle as he hung upside down from one of the rings on the playground. It was too hot to do much of anything else that day. Molly was with their mother doing the shopping and Nico said that he’d bother some of the older kids about getting one of the hydrants open. That was ages ago._ _  
__  
__Brown eyes blinked open when he heard yelling coming from behind him and arched his back to see what was happening as best he could. Swinging back up, Anthony lowered himself to the ground carefully before rushing over to the commotion._ _  
__  
__“Come on, Nico, hit him back!”_ _  
__  
__“Get him!”_

_Anthony pushed his way through the group of older children, all cheering and yelling at two kids scuffling on the ground. His dad frequently told both him and his brother to not bother with that kind of crap, especially when it was in the street. Italian boys handle their business behind closed doors. There was no need to bring others in._ _  
__  
__Well that’s what he thought, anyway._

_Until he saw a kid land a punch square across his brother’s face._

_Anthony’s eyebrows shot straight up. No one hit their family. No one even looked at them the wrong way. Not once. Other kids in the neighborhood fought, but they usually left Nicholas and Anthony alone._

_Anthony knew better than to fight his older brother. Not only did Nico have three years and four inches on him, but their dad had already started teaching him about the family business. He could punch harder than anyone Anthony had met, and he had the bruises on his arm to prove it._ _  
__  
__But shockingly enough the kid was holding his own._ _  
__  
__“Say it again!” The kid grabbed Nico by the collar of his shirt as he was still reeling from the punch, “I dare you!”_ _  
__  
__“I. Said-” Nico gritted out through clenched teeth, lip bleeding profusely. He grabbed the other boy and flipped them both over, raining punches on the kid’s face, “Stay. Off. My Street. You. Fuckin'. Mick!”_

_“Ay- Ay!” A sharp whistle caused Anthony to look up and duck out of the way quickly as his father, Enrico, and two of their older cousins ran across the street. Nico didn’t let up until Ricky forcefully scooped him up off the other kid._ _  
__  
__Nico fought his father’s grip, the older cousins laughing as they pulled the other boy away from the scrap. It was then that Anthony got a good look at the boy. He was about as tall as Nico, once he was on his feet, black hair, and the brightest hazel eyes Anthony had ever seen, even as one was already swelling shut. His two cousins pushed the kid back when he made another lunge at Nico._

_Ricky leaned down to be eye level with his older son. He lightly slapped him on the cheek to get his attention._

_“Hey. How many times do I have to fuckin’ tell ya to keep your nose in your own business?”_ _  
__  
__“It ain’t my fault! Asshole’s talkin shit and I-”_

_Their father whistled again sharply, cutting his brother off._ _  
__  
__“I don’t care who was talkin’ shit. You. Home. Now.” His father turned around to take a look at the scrapper who dared to mess with his kid, “And you-”_ _  
__  
__The black haired boy spat blood out on the ground in front of the man before pushing one of the hands off of his shoulder. Ricky stooped down to the kid’s eye level. Anthony blinked, astonished; he didn’t even flinch. Didn’t look afraid for a second. Was he really that brave? Was he really that stupid?_

_“You stay away from my kid and we won’t have a problem, you understand?”_

_The boy gave a singular nod and the cousin let him go with a rough shove. Their father grabbed Anthony by the scruff of his shirt, turning him around forcefully._ _  
__  
__“Let’s go, Tony.”_ _  
__  
__Anthony glanced over his shoulder to see the kid forcefully flip off his father’s back and couldn’t help but let out a giggle._ _  
__  
__“What’s so fuckin’ funny?”_ _  
__  
__“Nothin’ papa. Nothin’”_

“Fuck!” Angel Dust felt his legs slip as he fell to the ground. It had been a while since he had done any PCP, sure, but he couldn’t remember the last time something like that had happened. He’d never had hallucinations like that… of human life. Of his childhood. Of being alive.  
  
“Yo, you okay?” Cherri called from the top of the jungle gym, swinging down to meet Angel on the ground.  
  
Angel stared at the sharp gravel, one hand brushing through his hair again while the others twisted in the dirt. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, trying to separate reality from whatever the fuck that was. He felt Cherri’s hand on his shoulder and flinched immediately.  
  
“Woah, shit, calm down it’s just me.” She sat on the gravel, watching Angel carefully, “You wanna lay down?”  
  
Angel nodded, rolling over onto his back as he breathed. Cherri laid down on her back as well, letting her head rest right next to Angel’s.  
  
“What the fuck was that?”  
  
“I… I think I remembered somethin’.” He muttered, looking at the Pentagram in the sky.

* * *

Husk hadn’t been dead for nearly as long as Angel had. But with more life to remember, and mental scars of his own, the older memories had already faded and distorted. A cold sensation on his face. Bullets flying. A shuffle of cards. A kiss. Some dusty room with too much pain.

Husk tipped the handle of vodka up, drinking deeply. This day was always difficult for him, though he had long since forgotten why. It was a habit at this point more than anything. Alastor would quietly summon a bottle for him, pat him on the back, and let him have uninterrupted silence so Husk could stew in… whatever this feeling was.  
  
He assumed for the past few years it was grief. He could remember losing someone important. But it had been years since he remembered exactly who that person was or what had happened to them. Husker knew the person’s name began with an A. That much he was sure of. But anything beyond that… it had been too long.

  
Husk rolled to sit on the edge of his bed, scratching the back of his head. Niffty hadn’t been in to clean his room yet this week. A courtesy both to her and himself. The last thing either of them wanted was for Niffty to sit down and scold him about the hygiene of his room. Everything at her eye level was a disaster.  
  
Husk kicked a bottle cap away, watching it skitter across the floor before landing by the wall. 

_New York City June 1925_

_Nine year old Henry Casey kicked a bottle cap away from him and into the street, blinking at his shoes. He could already feel his eye beginning to swell shut. The guinea bastard could really throw a hit. His mom was going to be pissed at him for getting in another fight with the neighborhood kids so soon after moving. Back in Atlantic City, Henry could hold his own against anyone on his street. This was embarrassing._ _  
__  
__He spat another mouthful of blood out onto the dirt when two very clean canvas shoes stepped into view._

_“Hey.”_ _  
  
__Henry looked up. It was the blonde boy from earlier. He was related to that Nico kid or something. Brown eyes blinked down at him, one more clouded over than the other._ _  
__  
__“What?” It hardly sounded like a question, more like an accusation for something that hadn’t happened yet. The kid didn’t flinch at his tone, only holding out a bunched up kitchen towel._ _  
__  
__“Your face is all messed up.”_ _  
__  
__Henry looked between the towel and the kid again, expecting to be jumped, or something along those lines._ _  
__  
__“It’s ice. Ya put it on your face, stupid.”_ _  
__  
__“I know what ice is for, dumbass,” He snatched the towel, gingerly holding it to the bruise that was blossoming around his eye with a hiss, “Shit…”_

_The blonde kid sat next to him on the street, kicking a pebble out of the way. Henry’s shoulders tensed as the boy sat down. He hadn’t been in the neighborhood for very long, but after his earlier brush with the kid’s brother, Henry wasn’t about to take any additional chances._

_“Ya punch real good,” The blonde kid said after a moment of silence._

_“What?” Henry blinked, removing the towel from his face to look at the other._

_“My brother, Nico, he’s got the best punch I’ve ever seen. People don’t usually mess with him. But ya lasted a lot longer than I thought you were gonna.” The kid got closer to look at Henry’s face, “It ain’t as bad as it probably feels. And hey, now I’m not the only one in the neighborhood wit’ a messed up eye,” The boy smiled, pointing to his own clouded over left eye._ _  
__  
__Henry couldn’t help but smile weakly. It was the most that anyone had spoken to him since he moved into the neighborhood. Well, the most that anyone had spoken to him without throwing a punch. The blonde absolutely beamed._ _  
__  
__“I’m Anthony, by the way. Anthony Scavo.”_ _  
__  
__“I’m Henry… Casey.”_

Husker blinked, staring at the wall.  
  
Anthony. Anthony Scavo.  
  
That name sounded right. More right than any name he’d tossed around in the past.  
  
He took another pull from the handle, squinting at the wall trying to see something that wasn’t there. If he stared hard enough maybe more pieces of forgotten moments would come through the fancy wallpaper and ease his sorrow-filled mind.

* * *

Angel Dust was still a little shaken when he made his way into the hotel. His high was wearing off but the haunting feeling of his memories had remained, like he had lived it yesterday. Nuggets stayed close to his side, looking up and oinking in confusion every now and then.  
  


“You can’t just give people days off, Alastor!” Vaggie yelled at the Radio Demon as he stood in front of reception, crossing her arms angrily, “It’s not his day off today.”

Angel winced at the sudden sound of yelling. It was absolutely the last thing he needed right now. Leaving a wide berth around Vaggie, Alastor, and Charlie, he made his way to the lobby couch, flopping onto it with all the grace of a sledgehammer busting into a wall. He scrubbed a hand over his face as the images flashed through his brain again. 

“I think you’ll find it is.” Alastor snapped his fingers, manifesting the work schedule in his claws. With another snap, Husk’s shift disappeared, “See? There you are.”

“Al, you need to tell us when you’re going to give someone a day off. We were really worried something had happened to Husk.” Charlie piped up, crossing her arms as well, “It’s not good to come downstairs and find our front of house man just… missing!”

“He isn’t missing in the slightest.” Alastor strolled behind the bar, “I’m perfectly capable of mixing drinks and ensuring the care of the reception this evening.”

“Alastor that’s not the point!”

“I fail to see exactly what your issue-”

“Oh my god, would ya three stop bickerin’ for five fuckin’ minutes?!” Angel yelled, sitting up on the couch. The others merely blinked at him. Angel rarely ever raised his voice like that at anyone in the hotel. Much less three of them at once.  
  
Alastor was the first to tilt his head, that too wide grin splitting his face further. 

“Ah, Angel Dust. Just the person I was hoping to see.” He said, ignoring the outburst, “I need to request a favor of you.”

“What kinda favor?” Angel asked suspiciously, looking him up and down, “I ain’t makin’ no fuckin’ deal with you, if that’s what you’re playin’ at. And I’m off the clock today.”  
  
“That-” Alastor rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh, static grinding in the air, “I was never going to ask for something like that.” With a wave of his hand he summoned a tray of food to the coffee table, “I need you to take this up to Husker’s room. He has a bad habit of forgetting to eat on days like this.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ room service delivery,” Angel rubbed his temple, feeling his head throb. He could still hear his father scolding that kid, “Ask someone else-”  
  
“Vagatha, Charlie and I have other matters to discuss and Niffty is quite busy cleaning up supper. Take. It.” Alastor’s voice edged on a warning, crackling feedback getting louder and then shifting suddenly to a jaunty tune, “I’m sure it’s much more quiet upstairs anyway.”  
  
“Ugh, Fine...” Angel crossed his top set of arms, eyes narrowing, “If it’ll make you all shut up and leave me alone.”

  
The spider stood, his towering form seeming somehow smaller than normal. The exhaustion on his face was clear; everyone in the lobby could see that he needed space. Angel made his way up the stairs, leaving the awkward silence behind him as Nuggets followed. The tray of food clinked gently as he took two steps at a time, silverware shifting against china. It was odd that he was finding solace in the sounds of tableware, but honestly, he’d hyper-fixated on weirder things when coming down from past highs.

When Angel reached Husk’s door he felt slightly calmer. He could process his thoughts once he left the bitter old cat his dinner. Besides, knowing that he wasn’t the only one having a shit day was somehow helping, at least in a schadenfreude kind of way. He gave the door a few taps with his knuckles.

“Husky~ It’s room service.” Angel couldn’t help but purr the line out, finding humor in the obvious porno set up.

“Go. Away.” Husker groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. The last thing that he needed was someone like Angel bothering him while he was feeling like this. How many years had it been since he’d remembered that kid’s name, anyway? How many years had it been since he remembered that day at all? He took another swig, trying to push it down.

“Hey! C’mon old man! Al told me I had ta give this t’ya!” His foot tapped against the door, watching as it creaked open a bit. “I’m more concerned about Al bein’ pissed at me than you, so I’m comin’ in. Hope yer decent~”  
  
Husk let out a low growl as he heard his door open. He was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, claw tapping at the side of his bottle. His jaw tightened as the light from the hallway seeped into his dark room. Shit, when had the sun gone down?

Angel peered inside. He’d never seen Husker’s room before, not that he ever really expected to. In all his flirting, Angel Dust never once anticipated it ending in Husk’s room, though he wouldn't lie about being into the idea. The cat laid atop a pristinely made bed, sheets drawn tight and tucked underneath the mattress, a singular pillow propped under his head. A deck of cards splayed out in a game of solitaire sat on the bedside table. He would have called the room neat, except for the disaster that was the floor. Booze bottles, empty snack bags and cigar stubs littered the wood, a still smoldering one laid half forgotten next to the nightstand.  
  
“Yeesh, ya fuckin’ live like this?” Angel asked, kicking one of the many bottles across the floor out of the way, balancing the tray in his lower set of hands. Still, Husk laid there in silence, aside from the clinking of his claw against the bottle, “What, I don’t even get a hello? What the fuck is ya problem today anyway?”

Husk rubbed at his forehead. Angel’s voice usually didn’t bother him. It was more the things that he said. But for some reason, merely talking was setting his fur on end. It sounded too familiar. As if it wasn’t actually Angel speaking. As if his voice was taunting him.

Angel placed the tray down on a nearby table, eyeing the cat as he lay there, clearly wallowing in _something_.

“Aw, c’mon kitty cat. Don’t be such an ass.” Angel attempted to add some levity to his voice. Even in his own shit headspace, he couldn’t help but tease. He and Husk had a fun, dynamic back and forth going and it was easy for the spider to fall into.

Husker let out a controlled breath, “Kid. I am exactly three seconds away from hittin’ you in the head with this bottle. Get out of my fuckin’ room. Now.” He glared at the other demon. 

“Lemme come join you in bed, we can be miserable togetha~” the spider prodded once again.  
  
Husk’s grip tightened around the neck of the bottle. Sitting up quickly, he whipped the bottle forward. It wasn't aimed at Angel but it did get chucked in the same general direction, smashing against the wall by the door and shattering. Angel flinched, arms crossing over his face to shield himself. His heart was slamming in his ears the moment the bottle crashed against the wall.  
  
“Get out!” Husk snarled at him. Angel lowered his arms, finally getting a better look at Husk. He was expecting an angry look, but all he saw was the sadness across the cat demon’s face; wide open and hurting. The spider couldn’t bring himself to say anything, leaving the room as quickly as he could. He slammed the door behind him.

As the door slammed behind the taller demon, Husk opened his mouth to say something. An apology? More yelling? What was the point? Instead he groaned and flopped back onto his bed, paws tangling in his hair as that feeling of grief only got worse. 

Husk tolerated Angel Dust. Even on the kid’s particularly sun shiny, irritating days, he was at least pleasant to be around. He’d gotten used to the teasing and constant flirting. And usually, Angel knew when to stop. 

There had been countless nights in the past few months where Angel would come back late looking like shit and far too quiet. But for some reason, he preferred to sit at Husk’s bar instead of his own room.

And Husker had just thrown a bottle at him.

The cat let out another frustrated groan. Angel hadn’t deserved that. 

Outside the door, Angel lowered himself to the ground. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking slightly. He had annoyed Husk in the past but the cat never threw things at him, never did anything more than telling him to fuck off or get his shit together. And the way that Husk had just looked at him, well...he’d never seen him look like that before either. Slowly, Angel drew his legs to his chest, doing his best to calm himself. Nuggets put his trotters up on Angel’s lap, forcing himself under his lower arms.  
  
Angel Dust didn’t notice Charlie rushing down the hall to him and jumped when she put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Angel? Angel what happened?”  
  
The spider’s head shot up, his senses still in fight or flight.  
  
“Nothin’. I’m fine. Get offa me.” He pushed himself up quickly, scooping up Fat Nuggets and taking a few brisk strides to his room without another word. He shut and locked the door behind him, taking a moment to pet Nuggets to calm himself. 

The day had been a rollercoaster. All Angel wanted was a joint to settle his mind, an orgasm to distract himself and a full 8 hours of not being conscious. But instead he laid curled up on his bed and replayed that childhood memory, over and over; every so often his mind shifting to that vulnerable look on Husk’s face. 

* * *

It took Angel far longer to get out of bed the next day than he would care to admit. Sleeping in was one thing, but hiding in his room was another. Angel looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair for the tenth time that morning. Going downstairs meant that he would have to pass by Husk. After the night before, he wasn’t exactly eager for that to happen.  
  
His phone buzzed with a client list from Valentino for the day. Four in a row followed by a couple scenes at the studio. Angel rolled his shoulders back a bit. Better to pull the bandage off quickly and get it over with.  
  
As he opened the door, Nuggets took off, sprinting out of the room.  
  
“Nuggs! Nuggets come back here!” Angel called out, chasing the pig down the hall. For as short as the pig’s legs were, the little bastard was fast. Angel Dust chased him down the stairs, freezing as he saw Nuggets slow to trot up to the bar. Trot up to Husk.  
  
The lanky spider ducked behind one of the pillars in the lobby, pressing against it as he willed himself to become a shadow. He wasn’t very successful.  
  
“Legs, I know you’re there,” Husker called out. Nuggets snorted in affirmation. Angel peeled himself away from the pillar, glaring at where Fat Nuggets was peaking around the bar. 

  
“Traitor,” He muttered as he made his way closer “Sorry, he snuck out while I was tryin’ ta leave.” Angel rubbed the back of his neck, reaching down to pick Nuggets up. The last thing he wanted to do was get on Husk’s nerves. His cell pinged again, causing Angel to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Cautiously, he picked it up and read the message.  
  
“Busy day?” Husk asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
“Somethin’ like that,” Angel tapped out a quick response to Valentino, holding Nuggets a bit closer to his body. Husk put down the glass he was cleaning with a sigh. 

“Angel… Listen. I’m sorry for yesterday,” Husk put both hands on the bar, claw tapping against the wood. Surprised at the use of his name, Angel looked up, letting out a huff of a laugh.  
  
“You? Sorry? I’m the one who kept pushin’ ya.”  
  
“You push all the time. It wasn’t any different than usual. Me bein’ in a shit mood is no reason to throw a fuckin’ bottle at you,” His eyes flicked to Angel’s phone and then back up to the spider’s face, “I know you gotta deal with shit like that at work all the time. You sure as hell don’t need it here. You don’t need it from me.” 

Angel felt his face heat up for a moment. No one paid attention to shit like that. At least, he thought no one did. Unless…  
  
“What d'ya want?”  
  
“What?” Husk gave Angel Dust a once over in confusion.  
  
“What d'ya want? People don’t apologize ta me unless they fuckin’ want somethin'. So what d’ya want?” Angel gripped his phone in his hand, tense and cautious.  
  
Husk tilted his head in quizzical contemplation, half squinting at the spider. He’d scared Angel last night, that much he knew. It had only added to his wallowing before he resolved to apologize today. But the only other time Husk had seen the spider demon with a similar look on his face was when he was on the phone with Valentino. Regret softened Husk as he looked Angel in the eye.

“I don’t want anythin’. I nearly took your head off-”

“Your aim ain’t _that_ good.”

“The _point,_ ” Husker said, shaking his head, “The point is, I owe you a drink. Okay?” the corner of Husk's lips pulled into a smile, hoping it would show Angel he wanted to make some sort of amends. As much amends as an old bastard like him could give, anyway.  
  
Angel was shocked for a second but then gave the cat a small smile and a nod. There was something in Husk's voice...Angel couldn't explain it exactly, but it truly felt like his apology was sincere. Not just a bullshit "sorry" to make Angel forget until the next time something like this happened. There was real remorse behind Husk's tone and it made the spider take a step towards trusting him. He stepped closer to the bar to sign himself out.  
  
“Okay. No well-grade shit though, yeah?”  
  
“We’ll see,” Husk's smirk grew, looking at Fat Nuggets. He waved his paw as he turned around to readjust the bottles, “You can leave the pig.”  
  
“Givin’ me a free drink _and_ watchin’ my baby? You gettin’ soft on me, old man?” Angel felt a bit better as he felt the regular dynamic between him and Husk return. He set Nuggets down, watching as the pig happily squeaked his way behind the bar.  
  
“You wish.” Husk snorted over his shoulder.

Angel bit his lip lightly, blushing as he turned around to head to work. For the first time since he’d had that memory flash in his mind, his body relaxed. 

The day before had been a mess; it had sent his brain reeling in a million different directions. He’d come downstairs expecting to be bitched at again, another kick when he was low. The last thing he expected was for Husk to genuinely apologize, let alone smile at him. Angel’s heart did a small flip at the thought. 

Maybe he didn’t fuck things up with Husk too badly after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behind the Scenes:
> 
> 1\. The Last name Scavo was chosen because it means servant  
> 2\. We know it's quite popular for Anthony's father to be called Henry, but Henry is not an inherently Italian name. It is, however, a SUPER Irish name.  
> 3\. It's quite common in Italian families to name children after saints. Saint Nicholas is the saint of Repentant Thieves.  
> 4\. The last name Casey means vigilant or watchful  
> 5\. Enrico is the Italian variant of Henry, but we've made it Ricky because Italian's always have to put a Y at the end of a name. We don't make the rules.
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. Mick is a slur for an Irish person
> 
> Where to find us:  
> Panda  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18 + Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rocky:  
> Twitter: @rocky_Rants  
> Tumblr: @rockyrants
> 
> All comments, kudos, bookmarks, and general affection are deeply appreciated


	2. Sybil Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family Game Night leads to more memories of long forgotten card games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia. 
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

A few days had passed since Angel’s eventful - and emotionally taxing - Death Day. Soon enough, the normal routine set in again; Angel Dust went to work, Husk stayed at reception, and the usual snarky remarks and jokes between them picked back up. To anyone on the outside it would appear as if nothing had happened. Husk was still a grump and Angel still flirted relentlessly. 

But for the two demons, being around each other felt different. More comfortable in a strange sort of way. 

Angel trusted Husk slightly more after hearing the cantankerous cat apologize. In all of his afterlife, the only soul that had shown him that sort of real kindness had been Cherri. It was refreshing to find someone who saw him worthy enough to receive a genuine apology; to find someone who paid enough attention. 

Husk could appreciate the composure that Angel had maintained with him during his outburst. He had always known Angel Dust to be a mercurial and loud individual. The fact that the spider hadn’t said a damn thing about getting a bottle thrown at him, or mocked Husk for being emotional, spoke volumes. 

Angel strolled into the lobby after work. All things considered it had been a fairly tolerable day; still one that made him want to take a super long shower and distract himself with trash tv, but tolerable nonetheless. He made his way to the counter to sign himself back in and glanced up to the calendar behind the bar. The date was circled with pink, glittery ink.  **_Family Game Night_ ** was written in massive letters, surrounded by far too many stickers. 

Goddamnit. He had forgotten all about game night. 

"Fuck,” Angel swore under his breath, annoyed that he’d have to take part in Charlie’s mandatory fun, “Hey, Husky~! Can I get that drink ya owe me?”

The cat demon raised a brow and stood from his stool.

“‘Bout time. It’s been a fuckin’ pain rememberin’ I owed you one.”

“Yeah, whateva. Just give me a double vodka cranberry. With the  _ good _ vodka.” Angel propped his elbows up on the bar and rested his chin in his hands, letting out a huff, “I don’t feel up to playin’ games sober right now.”

“Fine, fine.” Husker grabbed a bottle from one of the higher shelves and poured some into a lowball glass. “Just don’t go blamin’ me when you’re too fucked up to remember what we’re playin’.” He gave the spider a knowing smirk, remembering the last game night where Angel was so stoned he forgot the rules to Chutes and Ladders.

“Ha! You’re one ta talk!” the spider cackled, a grin curling across his face.

“Ay, watch it, Legs! I’m… functioning.” Husk’s brows furrowed in annoyance, pointing a claw at Angel with one hand and pouring cranberry juice into the glass with the other. 

“Functionin'?”

“You fuckin’ heard me.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t think ya know the definition of that word,” Angel said, his tone turning flirtatious. 

Despite his irritated expression, Husk’s mouth pulled into a smirk and he huffed a quiet laugh. Quickly returning to his scowl, he added a lime to the rim of the drink and slid it to the spider. Angel sipped at his cocktail, grinning over the rim. He liked that he could make Husk laugh like that, even if it was just a small chuckle. It was rare to see, but Angel liked Husk’s smile; that genuine one he seemed to hide a lot. 

Husker tapped a claw on the bartop, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Y’know, I was in a good mood today so I was gonna go easy on ya tonight. But now you’ve gone and pissed me off,” the cat gave a teasing, feral grin, the one he wore when he was about to rake in all the chips at the poker table. Angel swallowed, half turned-on, half intimidated. A beat passed and the spider demon finally registered what Husk had said.

“Wait….pffft! That’s you in a good mood?”

“Alright everyone! Who’s ready for a fun night of moral-boosting, healthy competition?” Charlie interrupted the two demons with a clap as she entered the lobby from one of the back storage rooms. She had all the enthusiasm of a peppy camp counselor gathering kids for a “team-building” activity and none of the ability to wrangle a crowd. Not a shocker, definitely a lot to handle without a shit ton of booze. Angel tossed back the rest of his drink in two large gulps, rolling his eyes. 

Vaggie followed close behind Charlie, carrying a stack of different board games, boxes of cards and puzzles, a clipboard perched on the tippy top. They made their way over to the poker table near the bar and laid out the boxes, Charlie turned to Husker and Angel Dust with the clipboard in her hands, tapping at it with an oversized sparkle pen.

“Alrighty, Husk! It’s your turn to pick what we play!” the Princess of Hell smiled as she referred to her **_Special Sinners Chart_ ** , checking off Husk’s name in the column. “What do you want to choose? Maybe something...cooperative?”

“Fuck nah!” Husk took a sip from his bottle and gave a small burp. “Tonight, we’re playin’ cards. Specifically so I can kick this bitch’s ass.” He jerked a thumb towards Angel with a look of dry amusement.

Angel wasn’t bad at board games; he had just as much of a chance at winning as anyone else in the Happy Hotel. But cards? He had won maybe 10 hands in the past 70 years. Cards weren’t really his thing; everyone at the hotel knew it. Husk wiped the floor with the spider every time they played any kind of card game. And Angel Dust was too stubborn and hot headed to learn any semblance of strategy.

“Hey! That’s bullshit!” Angel began to protest as Alastor and Niffty joined the group in the lobby, “If anythin’, I’mma kick  _ your _ ass!”

“Come now, Angel, we may be sinners but I do like to believe there are no liars in this bunch. Such words aren't very sportsman-like.” Alastor smiled in cruel delight, yellow teeth glinting. 

“Pretty boy is just pissy cuz he ain’t gonna win a single hand tonight.” Husk scoffed, a twinkle of challenge in his eye as he sat down at the poker table.    
  
“Ya think I’m pretty?” Angel asked, placing a hand over his fluff as he gave Husk a coy grin and a wink.   
  
“I think you’re shit at poker,” he slid the deck over to Vaggie, “You deal first, kid.”

* * *

Everyone else had folded so far during the first hand, except Angel and Husk. The spider had a petulant but determined look on his face. Husk kept his expression completely straight, but internally he was smirking at the cards on the table. The ten of spades, four of hearts, the four of spades, and the king of hearts.

His own hand was a king of diamonds and an eight of clubs. Two-pair was decent enough and Angel Dust had shit luck anyway. He doubted the other demon had anything with the way that he was biting at his lower lip. Normally that spider would be flirting his ass off but he seemed to be so focused on pulling a win out of his fluffy tits that he went completely quiet.

Husk threw two chips in, raising. Charlie didn’t allow real money at the table during game nights but it still felt good scooping all the little disks up into a satisfying pile on a win.

Angel called. It was clear the spider wasn’t going down without a fight, though he was clearly struggling to keep his face as unreadable as possible. Like he wanted to prove something to Husk outside of just the game.

Vaggie flipped the last card. Six of hearts. Husk saw as Angel’s eye twitched. Did he just get a two-pair too? Not that it would matter. Husk had king high over Angel’s sixes.

“Bet.” Husk tossed in four more chips, watching Angel Dust’s face. The spider drummed his fingers on the felt in thought.

“I’mma raise.” a gloved hand slid six chips to the center of the table.

“Call.” Husk tossed his own chips into the pot before smirking at Angel. The cat flipped his cards over, “Two pair, Kings over fours.”

He watched as Angel’s face went from puckered focus to a wide, shit-eating grin.

“Full. House.” he purred, placing his cards face up with a satisfying flick. A six of diamonds and a six of clubs.

_ New York City December 1929 _

_ Newly fourteen year old Henry blew into his hands, doing his best to warm them up. Cold seemed to follow him everywhere lately; cold weather, cold expressions, cold pockets. His mother had been so attached to their radio over the past few weeks, listening to the stock market dive further and further into oblivion along with their chances of digging themselves out of the hole his dad had left behind. Henry hadn’t seen her in so much despair since the man’s death, when they had to find a new place to live. He wasn’t stupid though. He knew there was always one place to earn money.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Henry poked his head over the window sill again, looking in at the restaurant back room. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Saturday evenings were when the members from The Family held a poker night. Tables were set up in any open space, cigar smoke hanging heavy over the heads of the patrons inside. Occasionally there was a cheer of triumph followed by groans of loss. Chips and cash exchanged between players and the higher ups that walked the floor.  _

_ Henry’s eye caught Anthony. The one neighborhood kid that gave him the time of day. They didn’t talk much, but they did see each other around, Anthony making a point to shoot Henry a nod and a cheeky grin when he could. Anthony’s twin sister, Molly, wasn’t half bad either but she wasn’t out as much. She was pretty so shitheads would try and follow her home when Anthony or Nico weren’t around. Henry had taken a few of the creeps out, but he’d also seen her turn a knife on a couple of them.  _

_ The twins? Nice kids. Shitty family.  _

_ Nico was there, too; Henry spied the fifteen year old half-lurking beneath the smoke. Over the years it just wasn’t a normal week unless Nico and Henry had yelled profanities at each other. Anthony- and sometimes Molly- always apologized for his brother’s idiotic behavior. At least someone in that family had a good head on their shoulders. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Henry watched as the blonde zipped between tables, carrying drinks and sandwiches to older players, taking the tips that the men passed to him. In the span of thirty minutes, he had collected over five dollars.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ A flicker of movement in Henry’s peripheral caused him to turn his head. The boy blinked as he watched one of the men shuffle his cards around, switching one out of his sleeve for another. Henry shook his head. Sloppy work. But still, no one at the table seemed to notice. He rolled his eyes; stupid wops.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Hey!” A gruff voice suddenly called out.  _

_ Henry felt a large hand grab onto the scruff of his shirt, yanking him away from the window. He tripped over his own feet, falling backwards as he was half dragged inside. Someone pushed him to the ground just inside the door; he caught himself on his palms, wincing as they smacked against the tile floor.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ The light above him was quickly blocked out by a body. Henry looked up to see Ricky Scavo standing over him, glaring. The tall man took a puff of his cigar and blew it down at Henry. Nico stood just behind him with a sharp look to match his father’s. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “...Evening.” Henry said after a moment of terse silence. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “No. You don’t do the talkin’,” Ricky said firmly, looking up to the large man standing behind Henry. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Lo abbiamo trovato che sbirciava alla finestra.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I cazzo di poliziotti adesso mandano i ragazzini a spiare per loro?”  _

_ “Nah, ai poliziotti questo qui non piace.”  _

_ “Allora che cazzo ci fa qui? Rialzatelo in piedi.” Enrico took a puff of his cigar, regarding Henry as he was yanked to his feet, “What are you doin’ snoopin’ on our evenin’?” _

_ “I-...” Henry glanced at Anthony, and then back at Ricky, “I need a job.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “A job.” Enrico chuckled before laughing harder, “Lo avete sentito? L'idiota vuole un cazzo di lavoro. ” He looked back at Henry, “What could  _ **_you_ ** _ possibly offer  _ **_us_ ** _?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “He’s good wit’ cards.” Anthony piped up. Nico instantly slapped his brother on the back of the head.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What the fuck are ya doin’?” Nico whispered, harsh and annoyed. Anthony rubbed the back of his head, glaring at his older brother.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “He’s good at cards, he’s been teachin’ me.” He lied rather smoothly, giving Henry a look to go along with it. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Henry steeled himself and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah I am.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Oh really? And how is that any help ta me?” Enrico cocked a brow, seemingly amused at this kid’s efforts to convince him he was worth shit. _

_ “Well, considerin’ two of yer guys are countin’ and another one keeps swapping his cards, looks like you need some eyes. I could help keep that from happenin’.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Ricky squinted at him, tapping the ash from the tip of his cigar onto the floor.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What?” _

_ Henry tucked his hands in his pockets, shifting back and forth. He had to stay confident in front of these men. He had to show them he could hold his own. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I mean, I couldn’t see much from the window. But I know at least two of your guys are counting based on the way they’re bettin’. And this asshole with the bad tie has at least five cards swappin’ out.” He gestured to the stout looking man he’d been watching earlier.  _

_ Enrico snapped, pointing to the guy. A couple larger men grabbed the swindler, searching his sleeves. Sure enough, there were four cards tucked inside. Ricky Scavo took another deep drag of his cigar before looking back at Henry. The boy shrugged. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Okay, four. I was close,” Henry couldn’t keep a smirk from crawling onto his face as he glanced at Anthony. The blonde boy gave him a quick flash of a smile, then cautiously walked up to his father.  _

_ “Pop-” Enrico shot his son a warning look. Anthony switched to Italian immediately, “Sir. Lui sa di cosa sta parlando. Lo ha detto lei stesso; ha bisogno di qualcuno che controlli i giochi di strada.”  _

_ Another associate walked up to Ricky, leaning in close.  _

_ “Luciano parlava di aggiungere degli irlandesi. Se il ragazzino ha un buon paio d'occhi potrebbe valere qualcosa.” _

_ “Sì, solo se questa stronzata va come Maranzano vuole.” Ricky took another puff of his cigar, glancing down to Anthony again before looking back to Henry, “I’ve seen you fightin’ with my boy. You’ve never shown my family respect. Why would I let you get any closer?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I’ve only ever fought with Nico… Sir,” Henry forced politeness into his voice, hand clenching in his pocket at the word, “Anthony and I get along just fine. And I’ve chased off a couple assholes who’ve been followin’ your daughter back from school.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Enrico nodded, considering the information, “You know cards?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Cards, dice, I used to live next door to a horse bookie, too,” Henry said, “I’m good with numbers.” _

_ “You a bettin’ man, Henry?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “...Maybe.”  _

_ Enrico “Ricky” Scavo took a moment, playing with one of the big rings on his fingers in thought. _

_ “Tell you what. You beat me in a hand, I’ll back your bet, we’ll give you a shot at learnin’ some’a the ropes,” Henry smiled, hopeful at the offer Enrico was making, “But… you lose. Well, I doubt I’ll see ya round here again. And you’ll owe me the money ya bet.” Henry’s smile fell, he glanced back to Anthony. The blonde boy nodded, a silent show of encouragement. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Fine. Deal.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Henry soon found himself seated at one of the tables with Enrico and a dealer. Twenty-five dollars worth of chips were placed in front of him. Henry’s mouth went dry; he hadn’t seen that much money so close to him in his life.  _

_ “We’ll give ya twenty-five.” Enrico said with a smirk, “That seems a nice, small number ta start ya off with. In the realm of possibility ta pay back.” The dealer shuffled the deck of cards. Henry picked up a chip and set it in front of himself, Enrico setting down two.  _

_ The first two cards came down. Henry looked at his hand, keeping his face passive as he scanned his cards. He glanced up at Ricky to see if he could find any tell...so far nothing. It was Henry’s bet to make. He tossed four more chips into the middle.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Raise.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Enrico arched his eyebrows in surprise, before tossing four chips in plus an additional two. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Raise.” _

_ Three cards were placed face up on the table. The four of hearts, the four of spades, and the six of hearts. Again Henry checked his cards, glancing up at Ricky. He placed six chips in.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Bet.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Raise,” Enrico slid eight chips forward.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Henry watched his face closely. He always prided himself in being able to read expressions at a table. Ricky took a small puff of his cigar. Henry put eight chips into the pot.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Check.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Another card hit the green felt. Ten of spades. Henry tapped the table with a finger in a moment of thought. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Call.” _

_ Ricky’s jaw tightened. He took another puff, drawing a bit deeper.  _

_ “Call.”  _

_ The final card hit the table. King of Hearts. Ricky tapped his foot, knocking the ash off the end of his cigar. Henry’s face remained unmoving.  _

_ “Check.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Bet.” Ricky slid a pile of chips in, “Y’know kid, you should really watch who’s money ya play with.” _

_ Henry paused before meeting the bet, sliding the remainder of his chips in as well.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Call.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ The room was tense and quiet as Enrico smirked before turning over his cards. A two of hearts and an ace of hearts. _

_ “Flush, down the drain. I’ll be sendin’ Nico by to collect on interest-” Enrico paused as Henry quietly flipped over his own cards. A six of diamonds and a six of clubs. Henry smirked.  _

_ “Now, I know I’m just some kid playin’ with other people’s money. But that’s a full house.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Enrico raised his eyebrows again, taking a puff of his cigar and nodding. He stubbed the remainder of it out in the ash tray before motioning for Anthony to come over.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Get him started on gettin’ drinks for people. Get him introduced. Got it?” the old man’s tone was firm but still somehow...more gentle? Like he viewed Henry with a bit of respect. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Anthony nodded, smiling brightly at Henry, motioning for the other to follow him back to the bar. Henry stood, pushing the chips back towards the dealer.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What’re you doin’?” Enrico asked, raising his hand in question, smoke curling around his head as he lit another cigar. _

_ “Givin’ the chips back?” Henry said, hesitant. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “You fuckin’ won the hand, kid, you keep the money. Consider it an advance.”  _

“And you said I couldn’t win.” Angel cackled, pulling the chips towards himself. Husk flicked one of his cards at Angel, hitting him in the head, “Ay!”   
  
“No one likes a fuckin’ sore winner,” the cat demon chuckled, softening slightly. The memory that came back to him added a warmth to his chest that made him feel almost proud of Angel beating him. Almost.   
  
Angel polished his fingernails against his jacket, a cocky grin showing off his shiny gold tooth. “This is the start of a major comeback fo’ me.”   
  
It was not. Angel won that singular hand and proceeded to lose spectacularly for the rest of the night. By the end of it all, Angel was resting his head firmly on the game table as Husk raked in another winning hand.    
  
“I’m tellin’ ya, you’re not gonna get any better by talkin’ big game,” The cat demon snorted. One of the grand clocks in the lobby chimed with the time. Charlie’s head whipped to it before looking at her phone to confirm.    
  
“Gosh it’s late,” She muttered, “Thank you all for being here again. I think we’re really making good progress in getting to know each other.”   
  
“Yeah,” Vaggie smirked, tossing her cards towards Husk, “Like we’re learning that Angel is a perpetual sore loser.”   
  
Angel raised his head, pointing an accusatory finger at Vaggie.   
  
“Listen here ya-”

“We’re gonna head up!” Charlie said quickly, cutting Angel off and guiding Vaggie away by the shoulders, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for your eight am session, Angel.”    


Angel slammed his head against the table again with a groan. Husk let out a small laugh, sitting back in his chair. He kicked his feet up onto the table and began to fiddle with the cards. Alastor pushed back his chair and stood.    
  
“I shall turn in as well. Always a pleasure to play, Husker.” He said, patting the cat on the shoulder as he walked towards his own room in the hotel.    
  
“It is really late. Goodnight, Husk! Goodnight, Angel!” Niffty called, skittering away with a wave of her own. Angel lifted his head off the table, watching Husk fidget with the cards.   
  
“What, you ain't turnin' in for your eight am sunshine session?” Husk asked with a smirk. Angel glared at him.    
  
“No. I’m not leavin' this lobby until I beat you at somethin’. You know Gin?” he asked, scooting his chair closer to the table.   
  
“Do I look like a fuckin’ amateur?” Husk shot back, sitting forward in his chair again. He began to move the cards in a pseudo shuffle, twirling them between his fingers in a way Angel hadn’t seen before. Or at least, hadn’t seen in a long time.    
  


_ New York City December 1929 _

_ The brunette sat with his back pressed against one wall of the living room of the dilapidated house. His hands moved quickly as he did a complicated shuffle, flicking the cards in a diamond sort of pattern without letting a single one drop. Anthony watched amazed.  _

_ The room was decrepit. Old wallpaper from decades ago was peeling off the walls in places. A layer of dust covered the mantle of a long cold fireplace. The stairs were intact but rickety and led to more empty rooms upstairs. Anthony had done his best to make it more comfortable. Dragging in forgotten pillows and chairs that were doomed to the dumpster. It wasn’t perfect, but it was welcoming.  _

_ Anthony had stumbled upon this place two years earlier, an old abandoned mob safe house in the neighborhood. It was his safe space to run to when things started to get out of hand at home, or when he just wanted to be alone. Molly knew about the house, but she wouldn’t dare tell Nico or, heaven forbid, their father about it. There was only one other person he would even think to trust with the secret.  _

_ This Irish kid got in enough trouble with the cops as he did with Anthony’s family. Anthony figured that since the other boy was now officially in with his people, he might need a place to hide out, too. After poker night, the boys had broken off and snuck several blocks away so the blonde could bring the other boy to his hide-out. Their hide-out. _

_ The brunette began dividing the cards between the two of them, dealing out a game of gin rummy. The cards began flipping over quickly as their game progressed.  _

_ “Pass,” the boy said. Anthony picked up the card and added it to his hand before putting another one down in its place. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Where’d ya learn ta do that, Henry?” Anthony asked as the brunette picked up the card and tucked it into his own hand. _

_ Anthony liked Henry. They hadn’t spoken a whole lot over the past four years - hell, this was the first time they'd talked one-on-one since that day on the playground- but they had seen each other a lot and hung out with some of the same kids, so they’d gotten to play around on the streets. Henry was funny. He was a lot braver than most of the other kids in the neighborhood. He never made fun of Anthony’s eye. And he was smart. Really smart. _

_ If Anthony was going to take a bet on anyone with his father, Henry was the safest bet to make.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Hmm?”  _

_ “That thing you were doin’,” He gestured to Henry with a noncommittal finger wiggle. Henry chuckled.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I learned it on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. A lot of the street guys did it. I just practiced at home.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Yeah? I always see ya playin’ with cards on the street. What’s it good for?” _

_ “Magic things,” Henry laid out his cards with a smirk, “Like that. Gin.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Anthony threw his cards down on the ground, “How the fuck d'ya keep doin’ that?!” _

_ “Luck?” the brunette gave a smarmy grin. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Bullshit.” _

_ Henry laughed and picked up the cards again, keeping them in order. He flipped over the top card to show a two of hearts before shuffling the deck in that complicated way again. He flipped over the top card again, the two of hearts. Anthony looked up at him with a half hearted glare. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Ya cheatin’ bastard.”  _

_ “It’s called a sybil cut. It looks fancy and complicated, like the cards are actually moving. But I can keep the deck in order.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “So you’ve been countin’.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Don’t have to count if the order stays the same,” He said, laying the cards out on the floor in a fan. “Y'know, you didn’t have to lie to yer old man. About me teachin' you cards. I had it handled.” _

_ He used a far end to flip the deck over like dominoes. Anthony watched attentively. _

_ “My pops was three seconds from takin’ you out back and kickin' your ass for even showin' up. Trust me, ya don’t wanna be on the receivin' end of that.” the Italian’s lips pursed in a grimace. " 'Sides, ya suck less than Nico and all the other guys so it'd be nice ta have ya around or whateva." _

_ "Hmm...or whatever." _

_ Henry glanced up at the blonde with a smirk, flipping the cards back with another small flick from the other side and scooped them back up. Anthony's eyes went wide again, enamored by the card tricks. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Well, if the shit with the family doesn’t work out you could always run off ta Coney Island. Be one of them magicians in the side shows.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Fuck Coney Island,” Henry snorted, shaking his head, doing another fancy card shuffle. Anthony squinted, watching closely as Henry dealt another hand to each of them, “If I end up there, you gonna follow as a bearded lady?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Don’t tempt me.” Anthony said, watching the cards carefully as he played his hand. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Nico would never let you live it down. Molly would probably let ya borrow her dresses though, so at least you’d have yer own wardrobe.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I’d look damn good in ‘em, too.” Anthony smoothed his hair back and grinned. He appreciated Henry's sense of humor, it was dry but not mocking. Sarcastic but playful. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “You’d look good in a potato sack,” Henry said, watching the cards. He smirked again, laying out his hand, “Gin.”  _

_ Anthony felt his ears heat up immediately. His stomach did a stupid little flip that had never happened before. All he could do was look between the cards and Henry before throwing his hand at the other boy. Henry only laughed. _

_ “Y’know ya better not take me bettin' on you for granted.” _

_ “Wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it,” Henry said, still chuckling.  _

_ Anthony decided in that moment that he really did enjoy the sound of Henry’s laughter.  _

Angel blinked at his cards, zoning out. Husk snapped his claws in front of his face.   
  
“Angel. S'your turn,” He tilted his head, took in the spider’s expression, and gave an apathetic, “You good?” 

Henry. He hadn’t remembered that name in a long time.

“Hm?” Angel looked up, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” He gave Husk another shit eating grin, “Just gonna wipe the floor with ya.” He moved one of the cards from the main deck and tucked it into his hand. Angel looked up at Husk after a moment, “You don’t need to turn in or nothin’, right?”

“Nah. If stayin’ up means I get to kick yer ass at somethin' else, I think that’s worth it.” Husk said, trying to hide his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian Translations:  
> [We found him snooping at the window.]  
> [The fucking cops sending kids to spy for them now?]  
> [Nah, cops don’t like this one.]  
> [Then what the fuck is he doing here? Get him up on his feet.]  
> [You hear him? Idiot wants a fuckin’ job]  
> [He knows what he’s talking about. You said it yourself; you need someone to watch the street games.]  
> [Luciano was talking about bringing on Irish guys. If the kid has a good pair of eyes on him it may be worth something.]  
> [Yeah, only if this shit plays out like Maranzano wants.]
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. Five Dollars in 1929 is equal to roughly $75  
> 2\. $25 is roughly $380, Henry won $50 which is roughly $761 and plenty of money to pay for a month's rent in New York City  
> 3\. From November 6, 1929 until November 29, 1929 the American stock market crashed inciting the Great Depression  
> 4\. Also in 1929, tensions were rising between two different factions of the Mafia. One backed by Joe Masseria and one backed Salvatore Maranzano. Joe's faction was in favor of keeping the mob old school in only working with Italians while those in Maranzano's faction were in favor of modernizing the mob and bringing in those from other organized crime factions such as Irish and Jewish mobsters.
> 
> Where to find us: 
> 
> Rainbowpandas:  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rocky:  
> Twitter: @rockyrants


	3. It's Called a Hustle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Angel gets stood up, Husk reluctantly reaches out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

Angel stirred his drink again, the ice swirling around with a mocking clink. He’d been sitting at the cafe for over an hour, waiting, and was now kicking himself. He really should have known better. The past few days had been good; too good. Angel had had a genuinely fun time playing cards with Husk, despite getting his ass kicked. The cat was good company and it seemed he felt the same way about Angel.

And then there was that memory. Henry. Remembering him had made Angel Dust feel happy in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He doubted it was the kind of thing Charlie was looking for him to remember. But still, he’d started to cling to it; as Angel often did when he found something down here that made him feel genuine joy. 

On top of this suspiciously positive trend, the day before, Angel had gotten to film a scene with one of his favorite coworkers and the demon had asked him out. On a date. A real date. Angel Dust _never_ got asked out.

Everyone at the studio seemed to be too afraid of Valentino or too starstruck by Angel to even consider it. At the end of the day, he should have expected the current outcome. The guy was green, too new in Hell to know any better than to hit on the biggest porn star in the Nine Circles. He probably chickened out. Or maybe he did know better and this was all some fucking joke. Wouldn’t be the first time.  
  
Angel sighed and finished off his drink, motioning to the waiter to come over as he popped the last bite of his appetizer into his mouth. The armadillo looking demon shuffled to Angel’s table, half hiding in his shell.  
  
“Yeah, can I get the check?”

“Mr. Valentino called ahead and has already paid for your meal, sir,” He said nervously, as if the mere mention of the pimp would incite his wrath. Ice broke through Angel’s chest at the sentence. He blinked at the waiter. 

“...Say that...again?”

“Mr. Valentino. He paid for your meal. He said that you would have three drinks, an appetizer and then leave.”

“That fuckin’ son of a goddamn bitch whore motherfucker…” Angel mumbled under his breath as he picked up his purse and slung it over his shoulder, pushing past the waiter. His top two arms wrapped protectively around his chest as he stormed from the restaurant; jaw clenched to prevent any tears from spilling over. 

It wasn’t the first time Valentino had scared off or threatened one of his dates. It certainly wouldn’t be the last. It seemed there was nothing the pimp hated more than Angel going out with other people. He could hear the overlord’s voice echoing in his head. 

“ _Oh, Angel Cakes, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”_

_“Sweet thing, you know how this stuff goes.”_

_“No one’s got what it takes to be with you, baby.”_

Fucking bastard.  
  
The walk back to the hotel was a blur. He hardly remembered where he had been walking until he was in front of the doors of the Happy Hotel again. Angel looked up at the entrance and sighed. This entire fucking existence was a prison. He pushed the door open quietly, wanting to be as invisible as possible.  
  
Husk glanced over his shoulder as the door creaked open. There was no way that this place was getting a new arrival. He blinked when he saw Angel Dust coming through the front doors. He had that same tired look on his face that he did after a bad day at the studio; strange, considering it was supposed to be his day off and he said he'd be back late.  
  
The spider shuffled over to the lobby couch, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Husk watched him carefully, surveying the expressions that said more than Angel probably wanted to share.

_Don’t ask what’s wrong. Don’t ask what’s wrong. Don’t-_

“Goddamnit,” Husk muttered under his breath as something irritating and unfamiliar tugged at his chest. He set down the glass he’d been cleaning and leaned onto the bar.  
  
“You good, kid?” Husker's tone was flat. He didn't want to seem like he was prying. Him and Angel still weren't close enough to genuinely give a shit about each other. At least, that's what Husk told himself. He shouldn’t have even asked. The last thing he wanted was a moody Angel Dust dramatically draping himself over every surface in the lobby. Though, more than anything the spider looked… sad.  
  
“...I got stood up,” Angel struggled to get the words out after a long pause. Admitting it to Husk made him feel even more pathetic than he was already. But who else could he tell right now? Who else would actually ask what was wrong? The spider shrugged, “Val-” letting out a defeated sigh, Angel rolled his eyes in frustration.  
  
“What did moth-balls do now?” 

“Scared my date off. Again. Ain’t the first time it’s happened but… well, y’know.” Angel took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face. It dawned on him how dumb it was to mope about something that happened so frequently, “Takes a lot ta wanna be wit' me. It's whateva. Sucks though, I actually really like this outfit.”

Husk never _actually_ had a problem listening to Angel; the cat was used to being a bartender-therapist, though what the spider shared was always volunteered on his own. Husk was good at reading people so he never really had to ask, anyway. But every time Angel Dust mentioned out loud the shit Valentino had the audacity to pull, the cat demon's jaw clenched. At any given moment, Husker was six seconds away from going down to the studio to kick that purple fucker’s ass. He wasn’t afraid of Valentino. Not in the slightest. The guy wasn’t a mortal soul, sure, but that made no difference to Husk. Overlord or not, Valentino was a special brand of asshole that made his skin crawl.

Husk saw Angel's face fall back towards a frown, thought for a second, and then nodded to himself in mental confirmation. He grabbed the sign out book and wrote his name down quickly before walking over to Angel. A paw motioned for the spider to follow.  
  
“C'mon.”

“What?” Angel arched a brow at the bartender, confusion pulling him from his wallowing.  
  
“I said come on,” He said gruffly, “You were planning on goin’ out today. No use sittin’ around this shit-hole mopin'.”

Angel blinked at the cat, dumb founded. Husk wasn’t laughing at him. He wasn’t ridiculing him for getting his hopes up. A small smile cracked across his lips after a moment. 

“You askin’ me out on a date, Husky?” Angel teased.  
  
“No. I’m askin’ ya to follow me to a bar down the street so you stop bein’ a whiny bitch.” Husk retorted, purposefully not making eye contact with the porn star.  
  
“Whateva you say~” Angel said, smile still present. He stood up, straightening his dress, and followed the cat demon out of the Happy Hotel.

The bar wasn’t too far of a walk. A neon light flashed overhead proclaiming the name of Sir Veza’s bar. Angel rolled his eyes, chortling to himself at the pun. Husk held the door open, waiting for the pink demon to walk in first.  
  
“Such a gentleman.”  
  
“Don’t fuckin’ push it.”  
  
This type of bar was _not_ a place _the_ Angel Dust would usually frequent. His heels lightly stuck to the grimy floor with every step as they walked in, the smell of spilt booze and cigarette smoke heavy in the air while an old jukebox blasted rock music. To any outside eyes, Angel looked more out of place than a nun at a sex convention. It was exactly what he needed.

A smile split his face as he followed Husk to the bar; the cat demon already sitting on one of the stools. Husk flagged down one of the bartenders.  
  
“Rye whiskey on the rocks.”  
  
“Make it two,” Angel piped up, sitting next to Husk. The cat looked over, surprised by Angel’s order. Of all the times Angel came up to the bar in the hotel, the spider had never once ordered something like that. Angel usually either wanted clear liquor that he could down quickly or something with enough juice and sugar in it to double kill a diabetic. Husk stared at him with a confused look on his face.  
  
“What?” Angel asked with a shrug. 

“Y'know there’s no sugar in that, right?”  
  
“I know,” the porn star giggled. The bartender set two glasses down in front of Husk and Angel. The spider took a sip from the drink, glancing out of the corner of his eye. Husk was still staring at him with disbelief. Angel reached up and wiped under his lip, making sure no lipstick had smudged, “Look, just cause I don’t order this from your bar doesn’t mean I don’t like whiskey, pussy cat. I’m versatile~”

"Fuck if I care. 'S just weird to see," Husk grumbled, turning his attention away from the spider and back towards his drink. He took a large swallow before swinging around on his stool to look out over the bar, "So, which game d’you want me to beat you at first?"

“Oh ho,” Angel laughed, already starting to feel better, “So _that’s_ what this’s about.”

“Look if you wanna sit in silence while we drink, that works too,” Husk shrugged, tossing back another gulp of liquor. Angel gave a small chuckle as he looked around the bar, spying a pool table towards one wall. Perfect. 

“Ya shoot pool?” He asked, standing up, boots clicking on the floor as he wove through the crowd gracefully. Husker followed behind him, hyper aware of the fact that other patrons were staring. It didn’t seem to phase Angel, though.

“Do you?” Husk asked, snatching up the rack from the equipment on the wall. He began setting the balls inside the triangle. Angel sat on the edge of the table and watched the cat demon closely. He shrugged, a smug grin on his face.

“It’s been a while.”

“Right,” Husk grumbled. He turned back around and grabbed a pool cue, bent over to break the balls and then grabbed a second cue from the rack, “You hit the white ball and try to knock the other ones into the pockets. Either stripes or solids. Don’t hit the eight ball ‘til last.”

Angel stood and took the second pool cue from the cat demon’s claw and traded it with his beverage. He gently hip-checked Husk, bumping him out of the way. 

“Watch and learn, honey. I may suck at cards but I know how ta handle this long, hard rod and some balls.” He stuck his tongue out with a wicked smile. Husk rolled his eyes at the dirty joke, knowing that Angel would be all talk. The kid was the queen of hubris. 

“Right. _I_ need to watch and-“

Angel bent over the pool table, lined up the pole and gave a graceful but powerful strike to the cue ball, knocking it to hit two striped balls into one pocket, the white ball ricocheting off the corner and then bumping another striped ball down a hole.

“Learn.” 

“I’m stripes,” Angel giggled smugly, walking back up to Husk. He plucked his whiskey out of the cat’s hand, taking in the look on his face with a smirk. 

Husk’s eyebrows rose to his forehead, an incredulous look all over his face, hand still frozen in mid-air from where Angel had removed his drink. He’d never seen Angel do something that...skilled. The cat demon coughed to clear his throat, as well as his mind. 

“Lucky shot.”

“Oh, kitty, luck’s got nuttin’ ta do with it,” He purred, standing back to watch Husk take his turn.

Husk’s shot knocked a single solid ball into the hole and nudged a second ball closer, but it wasn’t nearly as impressive as Angel’s.

“Fuck,” Husk swore under his breath. He could practically feel Angel Dust staring at him, judging his skill.

“Good try, Husky. It’s a shame ya can’t always be on top, though, huh?”

"Yeah, yeah, just shut up and play.”

Angel bent over the table once again, studying his next move. His hips shifted back, one knee bending to accentuate the subtle curves of his body as he lowered his gaze to the felt. The spider didn’t seem to notice, but Husk saw half the bar staring at Angel Dust’s ass. A large wolf demon with broad shoulders got up and made his way behind Angel, eyes scanning the pink form. Husk’s fur began to bristle, almost in defense; he didn’t know what was coming over him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Angel was already glancing over his shoulder as the bar patron sidled closer.

“What’s what, pal?” Angel Dust gave the demon a dry, humorless once-over.

“Nothing much, baby. Figured you might be able to pick up another client after gramps here. Doubt he likes it as rough as you and I do.”

The spider sighed quietly. Maybe it was being ghosted earlier, maybe it was because he was enjoying a night that was out of the ordinary, but Angel really didn’t have the tolerance for this guy’s come-on right now.

Angel quirked a brow, turned his head back and lined up his shot, feeling the wolf practically pressing himself against his thighs. On the back pull, the spider yanked extra hard and nailed the back of the pool cue right into the wolf demon’s crotch, before sinking another striped ball into the corner pocket. The demon yowled in pain, doubling over and careening into the table behind him.

“Sorry, babe, but cock and ball torture costs extra.” Angel ran a hand through his hair and stood, turning to look down at the jerk holding his crotch in agony; he regarded him with annoyance as he took another sip from his whiskey. 

Husk snorted and then began to laugh. But not his normal dry chuckle. No, this was a full out belly laugh that Angel had never heard before. The wolf demon scowled at the cat, slinking away in embarrassment. That shitheel was definitely more bark than bite.

Angel glanced at Husk, smirking as the cat continued to laugh.

“Hahaha! Y’know, you may be a cold bitch but damn if you ain’t secretly funny.”

“Ay! I’ll have ya know that bein’ a cold bitch _and_ hilarious ain’t mutually exclusive.” Angel’s smirk grew to a grin wide enough to show his golden tooth. 

“Now, I said funny, hilarious may be takin’ it a step too far,” Husk said, still half laughing to himself.

“Sure, Husky.” Angel raised his glass to his lips, grinning over the brim. “Ya gonna take your shot or not?”

* * *

Best of three became best of five and Husk was pissed. Angel sunk the eight ball for the third time that night before leaning against his pool cue like a cane.  
  
“So, I can go again, but... I honestly don’t think you have more than three times in ya,” He gave Husk a shit eating grin and an eyebrow wiggle, making a quick jackoff motion on the cue, “Y’know, I’m startin’ to undastand why ya keep choosin’ card games fo’ game night. This is fun~” 

Husker let out a low growl. He wasn’t used to losing. More importantly, he wasn’t used to losing to someone like Angel. Still, the cocky grin may have annoyed Husk, but it was better than Angel being sad. Or whiny.  
  
“Fine, if you’re gonna be a smarmy asshole about it-”  
  
“Payback’s a bitch ain’t it?”  
  
“Yeah, you are,” Husk snorted, beginning to rack the balls again.

Angel glanced around the bar, spying a dart board on the opposite corner of the room, one that he’d been too engrossed in their game of pool to notice before. It was being used by a small group of demons who were clearly tipsy. The spider’s lips pursed in thought.

“Hey, Husky hold up.” a hand reached out, touching the cat’s shoulder to stop him from breaking the game of pool. “Let’s change the game. I think I got somethin’ in mind that’ll be fun for...the both of us.”

Husk gave a confused look but then followed Angel’s line of sight to the dart board. He looked back at Angel, who was setting their pool cues back up. Leaning against the table, Husker watched the other demon carefully.  
  
“Whatcha thinkin’?” Husk crossed his arms and swished his tail, amused to hear what Angel was planning.  
  
“Y’know, makin’ new friends, healthy competition,” the spider’s eyes sparkled as he grinned, “Things Charlie would be proud of us for.”

Husker saw through the words. And he knew that kind of grin.  
  
“You wanna hustle those assholes?”  
  
“I wanna hustle those assholes.” Angel snapped and shot Husk finger guns with all four hands.  
  
“Legs…”

It wasn’t that Husk didn’t _want_ to take money from these randos. But he knew Angel had a reputation. And they both had overlords to answer to. But...it did sound like a really fun time. Husk’s wings tensed. Fuck, he really wanted to pull a fast one on those demons playing darts.  
  
“Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun!” Angel saw the war of indecision raging behind Husk’s eyes, hooked an arm through the cat demon’s and dragged him toward the other side of the bar.

Husk yanked his arm free after several steps of being pulled along at the spider’s pace. Angel eyed him but let it be without a comment or flirt. Instead he looked up to the group of demons. They were fairly humanoid looking but one had big horns, one had three eyes and one had two sets of legs.

“Heeey boys~” the spider put on his signature flirtatious persona and gave a little wave. “So, listen, I’ve been kickin’ this grumpy lil pussy cat’s ass to the seventh circle and back in pool and he won’t stop bitchin’ at me ta change the game. He suggested darts. But the bastard won’t do me the courtesy of teachin’ me how ta play before makin’ a bet wit’ me. I was thinkin’-” Angel paused, batted his long lashes and bent over a bit to show off his chest fluff. “-maybe you boys can teach me the ropes so I can have a fair shot?”

Their eyes were wide as they processed that Angel Dust, _the_ Angel Dust, was talking to them. Husk resisted the urge to facepalm at Angel’s obvious bullshit lie. This was never going to work.

“Uh, yeah, a’course Angel-cakes.” the demon with the three eyes nodded and the other two followed suit. “We can’t let that fuck do ya dirty like that. We’ll teach you...maybe have a little fun too?” He put his arm around Angel’s shoulder and guided him more towards the group.

“Well, ain’t I lucky I found you boys.” Angel glanced back at Husker with a wink.  
  
If Husk rolled his eyes any further back into his head, they would have gotten stuck. He didn’t know who was dumber in this situation; Angel Dust for trying to pull this shit, those three horndogs for falling for it, or himself for playing along. He backed up and watched as the one of the demons pressed up against Angel, placing his hand over the porn star’s as he showed him how to hold and throw a dart, explaining the rules by speaking directly into Angel’s ear.  
  
Husk went to order another drink and observed. Angel had to know what he was doing. He could tell when the asshole was lying through his teeth. There was something in his tone that was just..different.  
  
Angel grinned, throwing a dart on his own. It whirled through the air, hitting just outside of the outer ring. He clapped his hands excitedly, giving a little squeal.

“I hit it!” 

Husker rubbed the bridge of his nose. The longer this went on the more the cat realized that these demons were either stupid as dirt or this wasn’t going to work. Either way, he was still feeling too sober for this. He slammed the glass the bartender just gave him and ordered another, watching the porn star toss a couple more darts at the board, hitting all over the place.  
  
“You boys are just so sweet,” Angel beamed after a few minutes of “practice”, “Y’know, why don’t we try a lil game. Me and my friend against you three in a round? Say… thirty bucks a piece?”  
  
The three demons looked between each other, half laughing. The one with horns sidled up and put his arm around Angel’s waist.

“But you just learned how to play, dollface. That wouldn’t be fair, us taking your money like that. We might be demons but we know how to treat a pretty thing like you.”

Husk practically gagged on his whiskey. It was like these morons’ brains fell out and were replaced with dicks. Sure, Angel was pretty. And a pain in the ass who knew how to be charming when he wanted. But fuck, even he deserved better than being called a “thing”.

“Oh baby, s’all in good fun.'' The sultry spider leaned into the demon’s touch and placed a hand on his chest. “The money’s just there ta help keep me motivated. Think of it this way...when ya win, that money can help ya buy a lil company so I can thank ya properly for teachin’ me.”

Angel gave a little wink and stepped away from the guy holding him. He sauntered over to the dartboard and yanked the projectiles from the cork, turning to hold them up in offering.

“So, ya boys in or not?”

They all nodded without a second thought and pulled out their wallets to ante up. Husk’s eyes were wide in disbelief as Angel waved him over. The old man grabbed his drink, took a big swig and headed to the group, shaking his head.

The game went more smoothly than Husk anticipated. Even with two against three, Husk was shocked that Angel was able to balance getting numbers and still acting like a complete ditz. The spider sent another dart careening through the air. It let out a small ding as it hit close to the metal rim, just barely landing in the 20. The three eyed demon circled the small x on the scoreboard, closing the number out.

It was close. Both teams had managed to close out all but one of their numbers. Team Dickwad needed one more bullseye point while Angel and Husk needed a double bullseye to win. The porn star tossed back the rest of his third glass of whiskey. His grin stretched across his face in mock drunkenness.

“Oh oh! Double or nothin’ if I make it backwards!” Angel put a tinge of tipsy-ness into his voice, trying to play up a drunk decision.

“Hahaha okay, dollface! Whatever you say!” Three eyes pulled out the cash and added it to the pile, laughing. The demons were wrapped up in the revelry and they were right where Angel wanted them….but Husker wasn’t so sure. A clawed hand grabbed Angel by the arm, pulling him closer. 

“Legs, what the fuck? Don’t make that bet!” He hissed.

Angel leaned in real close to Husk with a wide smile, biting his lip. “Trust me,” His fingers dexterously twirled the dart before he stood back up straight. He reached into his bag, pulling out a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick, “Just gimme a second,” He said with a giggle.  
  
The three demons were already chuckling lowly, eyes roaming over Angel in that lecherous way that made Husk want to throw a dart directly into their fucking skulls. Angel opened his compact and began reapplying his lipstick, glancing at Husk with a wink. Without even turning around, Angel angled the mirror slightly and tossed the dart over his shoulder. 

_Thud._

The dart landed in the tiny red circle. A double bullseye. Game Over. 

Husk’s jaw immediately hit the floor. Angel had said he’d wanted to hustle the demons, not fucking drag them through a field of embarassment. Angel closed the compact with a cackle. 

“Haha! Time to pay up, dumbasses!”  
  
The three demons stared at Angel; anger, frustration, and humiliation crossing their faces. Husk could have sworn he saw one of them go through the five stages of grief in two seconds. He couldn’t stop his own toothy grin from spreading across his face. 

“What? What the fuck was that?” Three eyes glared at Angel as one of the other demon’s knocked an empty beer pitcher off the table in frustration. “Were you screwing with us the whole time?”

“Nah, baby, it takes more than two-hundred ta get me ta screw ya,” He tucked his compact into his purse, “That was called a hustle, sweetheart.” Angel went over, kissing the demon’s cheek to leave a lipstick mark before snatching the small pile of money off the table. He smirked, pointy teeth making his expression all the more menacing. Then he turned on his heels and strolled away from the speechless demons, pulling Husk along by his forearm towards the exit. “Have fun circle jerkin’ it ta me later!”  
  
Husk let out a laugh of his own, flipping the other demons off as he was pulled out the door.  
  


* * *

“Parked car on the corner,” Angel said, winding the bat over his shoulder.

“Never gonna fuckin’ happen,” Husk tossed a baseball up at the other demon in a soft pitch and Angel swung his bat, knocking it into the night. It soared through the air before bouncing off of a parked car across the way, setting off the alarm.  
  
“Yes!” Angel cheered, putting his arms above his head, “That’s another one fo’ me!”

Upon coming back to the hotel, Angel had raided the storage closet in the lobby and found a bucket of baseballs that Charlie was probably planning on using for another ridiculous bonding exercise. After a quick stop at the spider demon’s room to pick up a bat and Fat Nuggets, Husker and Angel Dust found themselves on one of the balconies of the hotel locked in a battle of who could hit the most targets. Angel was winning. Nuggets gave a triumphant squeal at his owner’s happiness before chasing after a discarded baseball. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Husk ran a hand over his face, half glaring at Angel. He took the bat from the other demon, winding up for a hit, “Third floor window, office building. Don’t give me a shit pitch,” Husk scolded.

“Oh, baby, I never pitch like shit,” Angel said with a cackle. Nuggets trotted up to him, nudging a baseball into Angel’s hand. He tossed the ball up in the air and Husk smacked it as hard as he could. The baseball hit the brick of the office building before bouncing down into the street, “Tough luck there, chief.” Angel gave the cat a snide look. 

“Nope. No. Not fuckin’ losing to you _again_ ,” Husk snatched up one of the baseballs, taking a running leap off of the balcony before taking off. He soared over to the office building, hurling the baseball in through the desired window before flying back to the balcony.  
  
“Hey! It doesn’t count if ya cheat!”

“It’s called a hustle, sweetheart,” Husk smirked, landing with a shocking amount of grace. Angel felt his face heat up in a slight flush before shaking his head with a snort of laughter. Husk had called him a lot of different names before, but never ever sweetheart. It was...nice.  
  
“Nah, that’s just straight up cheatin’. I dunno if I can play with a guy who flat out ignores the rules.” 

Angel walked back over to where he had discarded his purse. He gave Nuggets’ head a light pat and pulled a joint and a lighter out of his bag, lighting up quickly. He took a deep drag before walking back to Husk, waving the blunt in his fingertips, “Want some?”  
  
Husk raised his eyebrows, looking between Angel and the joint with a suspicious glance. Angel laughed as he exhaled.  
  
“C’mon, pussycat. It ain’t every day I’m in a good enough mood ta share my weed.” 

Angel offered it again. Husk reached out cautiously and took the joint. It had been a good long while since he’d been crossfaded, preferring the mind numbing effects of booze over weed. Still, he couldn’t say no to such a generous offer from such a stingy diva. Angel smiled at him before walking over to the railing.  
  
The spider plopped down with a relaxed huff, back resting against the wrought iron. Husk soon joined him, handing the joint back. Nuggets oinked his way over, curling up in Husk’s lap, head resting on one of the cat’s legs.  
  
“He likes ya,” Angel observed, taking another drag. Husk hummed, giving the pig a small scratch behind the ears, “He doesn’t like a lotta people. Fuckin’ hates when I gotta take him ta the studio,” Angel passed the joint back to Husk. The cat let his head rest against the railing as he inhaled, nodding.

“With all them charmin’ coworkers you must have? Shocking.” He said dryly. Angel let out a small laugh.  
  
“Yeah. Once he pissed on Vox’s sound system and shorted out a new speaker. Val was in a fight with the bastard at the time so he didn’t do much about it, thankfully,” Angel frowned just a bit, “Gotta keep him in my room in the studio mosta the time. Val really doesn’t like him runnin’ around,” Angel blew a smoke ring out, half smirking at himself.  
  
“You could leave ’im at the bar, y’know.” Husk said after a moment. Angel arched a brow at the offer.  
  
“That’s twice now you’ve offered ta watch Nuggies. Ya sure ya ain’t gettin’ soft on me Husky? Or just my pig?”  
  
“Just the pig,” Husk said with a small smile, the weed starting to take effect. 

Suddenly, Angel snapped his fingers, as if remembering something, and grabbed his purse, tucking the joint between his lips. He dug around, pulling out the wad of cash they’d gotten off the group at the bar. His fingers flicked through the bills with practiced ease before handing a stack of money over to Husk.

“Here,” Angel grinned, “Partner in crime deserves half the take.”  
  
Husker’s eyebrows rose as Angel held the stack out to him, hesitating. The porn star grabbed Husk’s paw, slapping the money down into it. Husk blinked at the cash, setting it to the side as he relaxed against the railing. 

“You...uh..sure know how to hustle some dumb fucks, huh?”

Angel paused counting his own money, taking a pull from the joint and holding in the smoke before letting out a long sigh. “Yeah, I’ve been around a bit. The biggest thing I’ve learned in Hell is that demons think that pink and pretty means fragile. Gullible. People always treat me like a damsel in distress that needs savin’. Or they try ta fuck me over. I ain’t a damsel and I ain’t in distress. I’m a lot fuckin’ tougher than I look.”

The silence hung in the air between them as Husk took another hit from the joint that Angel offered. A simple, solid moment underneath Hell’s dark nighttime sky. They didn’t feel awkward, didn’t feel tense. Just present.

Husker broke the silence by nudging his shoulder against Angel’s and snorting sarcastically, “I ain’t makin’ any more bets with you.”  
  
Angel let out a full blown laugh. Husk glanced at him. Angel didn’t usually laugh like that. It wasn’t the forced cocky laugh he let out when he won something. It wasn’t that coy giggle he gave when he wanted something. And it certainly wasn’t the one he gave when he found something to be extremely absurd. It was nice. 

“What? Tired of gettin’ your ass kicked by me all over town?” He asked, a teasing edge to his voice, “Y’know, they usually pay me the big money fo’ that,” Angel stretched out, putting two of his hands behind his head.  
  
“Y’know what? I actually am. Don’t fuckin’ tell anyone.”  
  
Angel slowly brought the joint to his lips, smiling at the cat.  
  
“Won’t tell a soul,” He blew out the smoke, “Only people who gotta know you lost big time to me t’night are you, me, and my baby boy.”  
  
“Yeah, I ain’t so sure about this one.” Husk said, giving Nuggets another scratch. The pig snuggled closer to the cat demon, “Seems like a real fuckin’ chatter box. Must take after his dad.”  
  
“Rude! I can keep a fuckin’ secret.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Husk laughed, grabbing the joint as it was held out to him. He blew the smoke out, looking up, “I never thought I’d see stars down here, after dyin’. It’s nice when they come out.” He said, blinking at the night sky.  
  
“It ain’t stars,” Angel said with a half frown, “It’s sulfur flecks. They get caught on the way up. Trust me, been lookin’ at the sky plenty in my time down here. Sometimes ya can think they’re stars, though,” Angel turned his attention from the sky back down to the balcony, fingers tracing patterns on the stone floor, “Y’know, Husky, I don’t say this often but...thanks. For t’night.”  
  
Husk’s attention snapped down from the sky. He’d never heard Angel say thank you before. Not fucking once. 

“Y-you don’t say ‘thanks’ often?” Husk stared at the spider, weed mellowing him and making the comment all the more surreal.

“Yeah, well, manners ain’t really fit with the persona. People don’t wanna hear me say shit like that. I mean, til they do, but they usually keep that shit in the bedroom.” Angel shrugged all four of his arms, a giggle forming at his lips. “Maybe if ya lucky, you’ll get ta hear me use my ‘please and thank you’s’ one day.”

“Maybe if I’m lucky, you’ll leave me the fuck alone.” Husk chuckled, shaking his head. His jibe was good natured this time. The marijuana was probably getting to him. Or maybe it was the fact that he was having an actual good time with Angel Dust. Suddenly, his thoughts were stopped short by Angel scritching behind one of his ears. The touch was quick, Angel pulling away like he hadn’t meant to do that.

Had he meant to do that? 

“Ah shit, well...guess I gotta crash.” Angel pushed himself up onto his knees, picking Nuggets up off of Husk’s lap. He stood, straightening his dress as he tried to hide the light flush that crept across his freckles. “You can finish this off,” He held the joint out to Husk. The cat took it carefully, “Thanks again fo’ not bein’ a shitty date, Husky.” 

“You...uh...you weren’t half-bad yourself, Legs,” He said with a small smile, watching as Angel walked back inside. Husk let his head rest back against the wrought iron, looking back up at the sky as he took a deep drag. For a moment he could pretend those sulfur flecks were stars. He smiled, blowing the smoke up towards the constellations that wouldn’t be there in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this paragraph from the rough draft written by rainbowpandas because she has no idea how darts is actually played:
> 
> "Soon they were playin a game of darts. Just...a real game of darts. With points and shit. Yup. That’s what’s happening here. Darts. MMMhmmm. And then they shmeckledorf them fucks. Husk is doing good, Angel is doing okay (gotta keep up that sexy illusion for the hustle). And then Angel and Husk need a bullseye for some reason idfk i can’t play darts i have no idea what’s even happening anymore. But yeah they need a bullseye and Angel’s like…"
> 
> Where to Find us:  
> Rainbowpandas  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rockyrants  
> Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos, comments and bookmarks are always appreciated!


	4. Bang Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Angel Dust begins to chase more memories, Husk does his best to push them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All Italian translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia. Russian translations done by Viskar (@lessk_a on Twitter)
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

_The click of a gun being loaded._

_A bullet pings off a coffee can, knocking it over._

_Bang._ _  
_ _  
_ _A yell of pain._

Angel’s eyes blinked open, looking up at the ceiling as the brief memories flickered back into oblivion. The spider yanked his pillow over his face and let out a yell of frustration. This was the fifth night in a row he’d had those small glints of a memory and it was beyond infuriating. He pulled the pillow down so he could stare at the ceiling, glaring at it like it was somehow the plaster’s fault.

He’d been remembering a little more over the past few days. Mostly his family. Small moments with his parents and siblings. Being scorned by his dad, laughing with his sister, arguing with his brother, eating his mom’s cooking. The memories with Molly and his ma were pleasant. But his father and brother were right in Hell with him. It wasn’t as if remembering details about them was helpful or sparked anything close to happiness.

Remembering Henry, on the other hand, made Angel's heart feel full. Like how Cherri and Fat Nuggets made him feel; right and safe and at home. He continued to play those two memories of his childhood over and over in his mind, picturing every tiny detail. But the longer he went with just those two memories of Henry, the more precious those recollections became.

Angel was all too eager to lean into those good feelings, letting himself get lost in them more often than not. He’d even zoned out once when Valentino was talking to him after a shoot. The porn star hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t paying attention until he felt the pimp’s hand smacking across his face, yelling at him to fucking listen.

Angel Dust closed his eyes again, taking in a deep breath as he tried to remember anything from that dream. Any sort of little clue that he could cling to. Any glimpse that proved that Henry might be a part of it.

_Click._

_Ping._  
  
Angel rolled over onto his stomach, pillow still pressed to the lower half of his face as he snatched up his phone. He rubbed his temple with his fingertips as he tapped out a quick message to Cherri. 

**_Angie: Can ya get your hands on a Colt M1911?_ **

**_Cher Ber: Do I really look like that much of an amateur to you? I’m hurt._ **

**_Cher Ber: A bit basic for you tho, what’s the deal?_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Angie: Dw, suga tits. Just need ta shoot somethin’_ **

**_Cher Ber: Say no more, babe 030_ ** **_  
_ **

Angel got dressed haphazardly, quickly heading down the stairs to the bar with Fat Nuggets in tow. He figured it was smarter to leave the piggie at the hotel than try to bring him along for target practice, but thankfully, he knew Husk would keep an eye on him. 

Over the past several days, the bartender had followed through on his offer to babysit Nuggets whenever Angel needed. They had shared a few more smokes and joints on the balcony, too, but work had kept their conversations short. Still, their time together was enjoyable. More than enjoyable.

Ever since that night at the bar, Angel felt himself more drawn to the grumpy old cat. They just...clicked. There was still bickering; that sarcastic dynamic they had from the beginning that made Angel laugh, but there was also something beneath that. They had some shit in common. Contracts, addictions, being trapped in a space they didn’t want to be in, being competitive and stubborn. Angel never thought that he’d find someone he could trust with his real self other than Cherri, but Husk was proving himself more every day.

Husk was a hottie, sure, the spider knew that from day one. But now Angel was steering into bona-fide crush territory and it felt fucking wierd. Angel Dust didn’t get _crushes_ . He got laid. It was his job to make people want _him_ , not the other way around. He wasn’t some blushing, stammering teenager. He was a professional. Yet Husk seemed to be turning that on its head, too. 

Angel sidled his way up to the bar, smoothing out his jacket to look presentable. 

“Heeey Husky~ ya mind watchin’ Nuggets for a bit? I gotta go do a thing.”

“A thing or some fuckin rich prick?” Husk scoffed, taking a sip from his bottle and leaning back in his chair. 

Angel’s phone pinged. He glanced down to see a new message from Cherri with a picture of the gun he’d asked for. A relieved expression spread across his face. He was one step closer.

“Nah, just… just some personal shit. Can’t take ‘im.” Angel put his top two elbows on the bar, leaning over just a bit. “Would ya also be a sweetie and hand me summa Charlie’s craft supplies she keeps behind the bar?”

“For the last goddamn time, huffin’ glitter glue ain’t gonna give ya the same high that huffin’ normal glue will,” Husk said rolling his eyes. The old man was still tough to read, but Angel was getting better at seeing past his dry expressions. A gold tooth glinted in a smirk.

“Fuck you! I just need some red construction paper and a marker, ya ass” the spider snickered at the cat’s jibe. Husk shook his head and grabbed a piece of red paper and a marker, handing them over.

Angel snatched them, popping the cap off the marker with his teeth as his brain raced to draw out the logo he saw in his dream. Husk crossed his arms, leaning onto the bar to watch closer. Angel could feel his cheeks heating up immediately at the sinner’s proximity. Fuck.

He popped the cap back on and cleared his throat. The last thing he needed was Husker asking questions or distracting him. He barely had the edges of the memory in his head and he didn’t want to let it slip away. It was hard enough to process this shit on his own; he didn’t have it in him to bring Husk into it. Especially not right now.

“What, don’t want me to see your super secret craft project?” Husk snorted, giving a mean grin.

Angel stood, holding the paper close and tucking the marker in his jacket. 

“Nah, it’s nuttin’’. Go back ta your bottle, mind ya business.” the porn star gave his signature smirk. Husk could see through it, of course, but decided not to press. Something was off about Angel this morning. He seemed a little more manic than he had been in a while. But if the cat had learned anything over the past several months, it was to respect when Angel _didn’t_ want to talk about something.

Husk watched in silence as Angel Dust kissed Fat Nuggets on the head, set the pig on the bar and walked out the front door with a wave.

“Your dad’s a fuckin’ weirdo,” Husk muttered, looking at Nuggets. The pig oinked, trotting over to lick the bartender’s nose. Husk shook his head, “And I’m talkin’ to a pig.”

* * *

Angel met Cherri at her apartment, banging at her front door as soon as he arrived. The strawberry-blonde opened the door, twirling the pistol in her hand with all the grace she did her bombs.

“‘Bout time ya showed up,” She grinned. Her eye caught the paper and marker in Angel’s hand and raised her eyebrow, “Everything good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Angel slipped past her, kissing her cheek quickly, “Ya got any of that shit coffee in a can ya like to drink?” He asked. Cherri blinked, fiddling with the magazine release button in thought as she watched Angel tear through her cabinets.

“Yeah, next to the fridge,” She said slowly.

Angel grabbed for the can, shaking it; there was barely anything left inside. He dumped the rest of the grounds out into a forgotten cereal bowl before plopping down on the floor of Cherri’s kitchen. He yanked the cap off the marker and began drawing on the red construction paper. The cyclops sauntered over, sitting down on her floor as well.

“What are you on?” She asked after a moment. Angel snorted, looking up at her.

“Nothin’.”

“Ange,” She said bluntly, “You’re either lying and on some good shit or something is up. What’s goin’ on?”

Angel sighed and set the marker down, rubbing two hands through his hair in thought. He should have known that he couldn’t play it off as no big deal with her. She knew that there was stuff coming back to him from being topside. But Angel hadn’t shared details. And he especially hadn’t told her about the dreams. Or about Henry.

“I’m not… I’m not on anythin’ this time. It’s the memories, these fuckin’ dreams I’m gettin’. I keep havin’em over and over and over and _over_ ,” He rolled his hand in the air, “It’s drivin’ me up a fuckin’ wall!” He huffed and went back to drawing, “I figured if I follow through on the shit I _do_ remember, maybe I’ll remember somethin’ else about that damn kid and then I can just move on wit’ my existence.”

“What kid?” Cherri asked lightly, curiosity threading through her voice as she tried to keep up with Angel’s train of thought.

Angel paused again, marker freezing for a moment before he kept drawing.

“Angel. What kid?”

“I dunno,” Angel muttered, coloring in the letters of the logo, “I keep rememberin’ this… boy. From when I was alive,” he looked up at Cherri, “A kid I grew up with. I think he’s important. I- Cher I haven’t felt this happy about a memory, from life or afterlife, in a really long time so just… please.” He sighed, taping the paper to the can.

Cherri smiled and slid the gun across the floor to Angel.

“You better have a good shot with that thing,” She said, standing up with a stretch and heading towards the door.  
  


* * *

Cherri sat on an old milk crate in the alleyway next to her building, leg bouncing as she watched her best friend. She hadn’t seen Angel this driven for something in… well, decades. Cherri looked down the alley to where Angel had set up the coffee can with his makeshift label. When she looked back, her friend was still turning the gun over in his hands.

“You gonna shoot the fucking thing or just gaze into it’s barrel like a simp?” She called out with a short laugh.

Angel thumbed over the gun. It was a familiar weight that he hadn’t felt in a while. Angel preferred a good nail studded bat or his Baretta M12 over this. But... it was what he remembered. He slid the magazine out, looking it over before clicking it back into place.

“Fuck it,” He muttered, pulling back the slide before aiming it at the label he recreated from his memory. 

_BANG!_

_New York City, March 1932_

_Anthony pulled the trigger back on the M1911, the gun going off with another bang. The coffee can remained exactly where Henry had set it up at the edge of the empty lot. There was a snort of laughter from behind him. Henry sat with his back against the brick of the neighboring building, cigarette tucked between his lips._

_“I think you were closer that time,” He chuckled, blowing smoke out. Since the night of the card games, Anthony couldn’t remember a day when he hadn’t spoken to or spent time with Henry._

_They were nearly inseparable, and nearly always getting into trouble. They stole and sold cigarettes, ran small mob jobs, continued their gopher gigs at poker nights. Henry had even started running the small numbers games under the supervision of some of the older guys in the Family._

_After everything they’d been through these past two years, Anthony could easily call Henry his best friend. Except during times like this. When Henry was being a dick. Anthony glared at the brunette before looking down at the gun again to check for defects._

_It wasn’t his gun. It was Nico’s. Nico’s brand new M1911 from their father; the one that his brother hadn’t even had a chance to shoot yet. Nico always made it look so easy when he practiced. Then again, when his brother practiced he usually had their dad right there to show him exactly what to do._

_But their father had refused to teach the twins. Molly was a girl and Anthony... well, Anthony was too young. He was only fourteen. Things were changing in the mob and he had to wait until he was older. Or so his father kept saying. Along with a bunch of other bullshit excuses._

_His dad originally said that things were tense; too dangerous to teach him during this power transition. Now, after everything that happened with Maranzano, he was saying the rules for age had changed and he was too busy. And then there was that bullshit about needing a shot with good eyes. Anthony didn’t care. Not only could he see just as well as Nico, but he was going to prove that he could shoot like him, too. Better even. His old man kept doubting him but he would see that Anthony was good enough. He’d have to._

_Which is why he ignored the rules and borrowed Nico’s gun._

_“Look, just a few more tries, I almost got it.”_

_Henry looked at his wrist watch and then around the corner of the sheltering buildings to ensure no cops were walking by. He’d agreed to be Anthony’s lookout while he was practicing. The blonde’s eyes followed Henry’s movements as he stubbed out his cigarette before leaning back against the brick wall._

_Stupid Henry with that smug grin on his face. And eyes. Really nice looking eyes. Anthony felt his face heat up. He felt like this all the time nowadays. Henry just...pissed him off so much. But, at the same time, he made Anothony feel so happy. Best friends were weird._

_“You got until that magazine runs out.” Henry ran a hand through his hair and smirked._

_Anthony bit his lip, turning his attention back to the gun. He slid the magazine out, checking how many rounds he had left. Three bullets. He could do this. He had to prove shit to his dad. Maybe look good in front of Henry. He could do it._

_Taking a deep breath, Anthony raised the gun again in the direction of the coffee can._

_The Bang-ping noise of the gun going off and the bullet hitting the can startled him. He hit it. He actually fucking hit it. Anthony’s grin grew wider and wider as the realization set in._

_“Ahaha! Kiss my ass, Henry! Ya betta take notes cuz I’m officially an expert shot.” Tony smoothed his hair back in cocky pride, trying to twirl the gun on his finger. It fumbled in his hands but he caught it before it could slip away._

_Henry’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. He smiled and pushed himself off the wall._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Yeah, sure, one shot outta seven is definitely fuckin’ expert. Really. I’m studyin’ closely,” Henry snorted. He walked downrange and looked the can over, bending to pick it up, “You barely fuckin’ hit it!”_

_Anthony's eyes followed Henry as he went to the other end of the lot to set up the target again, watching him reach down to get the can. His slacks had dirt on the butt from sitting on the ground. Anthony stared, getting that dumb flip in his stomach again, the one that caused his face to heat up. As Henry stood back up, the blonde quickly tore his eyes away to look back down at the gun._

_“Maybe I held it different that time,” He turned the gun over, finger still on the trigger. It slipped._

_BANG!_

_Henry cried out in pain._

_Anthony looked up in a panic, seeing his best friend grip his bloodied right shoulder._ _  
_ _  
_ _“TONY WHAT THE FUCK?!”_

Angel blinked as the old knowledge flooded back to his brain. He lowered the gun and switched the safety on- the one he had forgotten to switch on when he was a kid. Like a fucking idiot. Which is how he shot his childhood crush. Like an even bigger fucking idiot.

Cherri saw the spider’s eyes grow wide in shock, “Angel? Did you remember something or nah?”

“I shot my first crush.”

“You _what_?” Cherri sat up straighter, leaning forward.

“I shot him cuz I was tryin’a show off. To my dad? And also kinda ta him? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“Angel, what the fuck?” 

“It was only his shoulder!” The spider backtracked, realizing how this was all sounding, “I really don’t think I killed him.”

“Oh my god.” Cherri paused and then snorted a laugh. “I can’t believe you were a fuckin’ gay disaster.”

Angel wasn’t paying much attention to what Cherri said. Instead, he was thinking about that smile. Those hazel eyes. The laugh. The small flashes of growing up with his best friend. His head began to buzz in that comforting way, but at the same time...it felt like he was missing something, gnawing at the edge of his psyche. Irritating and too close to ignore. 

“Fuck!” Angel turned the safety off with a flick and fired the rest of the bullets into the can on the ground, trying to make more memories come back to him. He kept pulling the trigger even when the last bullet emptied.

Cherri eyed her best friend carefully, going over to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay, babe. You’ll figure this shit out,” she pulled him by the arm, trying to guide him back towards the street. “...I got a new rocket launcher while I was lookin’ for your gun. Let’s go trash one of Vox’s billboards.”

Angel lowered the gun, still tense, and nodded quietly as he followed his friend towards a welcomed distraction. 

* * *

The next day, Husk was reluctantly making his way towards the outskirts of the Happy Hotel property. There were some wolverine demons that had been lurking on the grounds recently and Al had been sending the cat to play security guard. He’d already been out three times today, yet the fuckers kept getting closer and closer, despite Husk’s fierce glares. Husk hated this shit, but a contract was a contract. When Al said “jump”, he was supposed to say “how high”. 

In reality, when Alastor said “jump”, Husk typically replied with “fuck off” followed by begrudging action.

“Hey! You!” Husk called to the small pack of loiterers. If the harsh looks weren’t working, maybe yelling would get them to scatter. They all looked up, ears perking. One of them twirled a knife in his paw. “Yeah, you shits. Get off this turf. By the decree of the Radio Demon or whatever the fuck.”

“Слышали, ребята? Старик хочет, чтобы мы проваливали с оленьей территории. Будто бы он может заставить нас,” the wolverine with the knife cackled, “Котенок думает, что напугал нас.”

Husk rolled his eyes. “Я вас, блять, понимаю, уроды. Убирайтесь отсюда, если не хотите проблем.”

“О-ох, ты понимаешь нас, правда? Что ж, посмотрим, поймёшь ли ты это!” at the command of their boss, the other two demons pulled out knives; long, serrated, and mean-looking. They crouched and then quickly sprung towards Husk, in an attempt to bum rush him.

Husker should have known. These guys were clearly just looking for a fight. And there was no faster way to get into a brawl than to annoy a powerful demon who has lackeys at their disposal. Just Husk’s luck.

With two demons rushing at his sides, Husk leapt into the air, aided by a flap of his wings. He reached down, grabbing the skull of one demon, hurling him off balance and into their leader. Landing back on his feet, Husk was quick to swipe a foot out and bring down the third demon as he rushed towards him.

The cat caught the glint of a knife coming from his right and did his best to move out of the way, but the fuckers were fast. He caught the knife against his forearm, hissing as it sliced through his flesh, blood pooling to the surface. Husk reached across, grabbing the demon by his wrist as he yanked him forward, claws digging into the other’s shoulder before tearing across his body.

What he didn’t see was the demon on the ground regaining his bearings. The wolverine grabbed his ankle, his own claws digging in as he tripped Husk up and pulled him to the ground. Husk shoved himself back up and kicked the fucker in the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of his snout underneath his foot as the demon rolled away whimpering.  
  
One demon left not writhing in pain. He pushed himself back up onto his feet, facing the last demon with a snarl. He saw the glint of the large knife in the other’s hand.  
  
“Ловко шныряешься для старого кота.”

“Много болтаешь.” Husk growled out, lunging at the wolverine. The demon slipped to the side, grappling with the cat. He swung his hand, knife coming too close to Husk’s neck for his liking. The cat was able to knock it away from his jugular, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop the knife from digging into the hollow of his right shoulder. The wolverine twisted the blade, shoving Husk to the ground.  
  
“Недостаточно быстр.” The wolverine cackled. Husk could’ve sworn he heard the bang of a gun as the pain tore through him. He gripped the wolverine’s wrist to keep him from digging the blade in further.

Just as his vision began to swim, a black shadow wrapped around the intruder’s throat, yanking him away. Husk’s ears hummed with the sharp piercing sounds of static. He reached up and pulled the knife out, throwing it to the side as he grabbed his shoulder in pain. 

_New York City March, 1932_

_BANG!_

_Sixteen year old Henry cried out as pain sliced through his shoulder. He reached up to grab it instinctively, crumpling to the ground as his legs gave out._ _  
_ _  
_ _“TONY, WHAT THE FUCK?!”_

_Anthony sprinted downrange to his friend, flicking the safety on the gun with fumbling fingers. Henry could feel the blood seeping past his palm, warmth spreading onto his shirt. He’d been injured in small knife fights before. Back alley scuffles were just another normal part of his week. But this? This hurt. This really fucking hurt._

_“Fuck! I’m sorry!” Anthony’s eyes were wide in worry, all the color drained from his face._

_“Yeah, no shit you’re sorry,” Henry bit out with a groan. Anthony tucked the gun into his trousers and kneeled at his friend’s side, trying to get a better look at the wound._

_“Well, it didn’t tear all the way through,” the younger boy’s voice was shaky as he examined Henry’s back. Anthony helped his friend to his feet, Henry wincing in pain as his shoulder was nudged._

_“Ain’t I fuckin’ lucky!” Another wave of pain washed over him as Anthony began steering them towards the back alley. “Shit, this sucks.”_

_“Let’s get ya to the clubhouse, we’ll figure shit out there. Maybe Molly can help,” there was a strained confidence in Anthony’s voice, the sound of someone who was trying to be a problem-solver but genuinely had no clue what the fuck they were doing._

_The walk to their safe house was a short one, thankfully. They carefully ducked into the narrow alley that led to the obscured entrance, the one that helped keep their secret hide out a secret. Anthony wrenched the door open, steering Henry into the living room._

_Molly was lounging on the couch; last summer they had pulled it from a freshly abandoned apartment, one of the many that were popping up post Crash. She was thumbing through a copy of The Cosmopolitan when the door busted open. Ever since the twins had turned fourteen, they’d both wanted more space away from their home. Molly had made a small corner of the safe-house her own. It wasn’t unusual to see her there nowadays; she was always sewing, reading or practicing knife throwing. Her eyes went wide when she saw the blood seeping through Henry’s shirt._

_“Henry, what the fuck did ya do?!” Molly’s tone was disconcerted, borderline mad. She sat up, making space for Henry on the sofa._

_“Ask your idiot brother!” the brunette managed to roll his eyes. Even in genuine agony, he could still find the time to be a sarcastic shit._

_Anthony deposited Henry on the couch, putting the gun down on the wooden box they called a side table. Molly eyed the gun, letting out a frustrated noise._

_“Tony, that betta not be Nico’s gun,” She warned, looking at her younger brother with a fierce stink-eye._

_“You can scold me about it later,” Anthony ignored his sister’s rising anger and knelt in front of Henry to get a better look at his shoulder, “Shit… I think the bullet’s still in there.”_

_“Oh you_ **_think_** _, do ya?” Henry hissed in pain when Tony prodded his arm a little too close to the wound._

_“Move,” Molly pushed Anthony out of the way. She bit her lip, “You gotta get your shirt off. Tony, help him wouldja? Ya got your knife on ya?” she asked, turning her attention to Henry and tying her long blonde hair up in a ponytail._

_Henry shifted with a groan and nodded, pulling his pocket-knife out of his pants. He clicked it open and handed it over to Molly. Anthony helped push Henry’s shirt off so his sister could get a better look at the wound. The blonde winced, seeing blood still pool to the surface._

_“You guys got any of that booze left ya snuck last week?” Molly looked around the room, as if it would be sitting out in the open. Henry nodded and pointed to a barrel by the stairs. Molly jumped up and took the lid off, reaching in to pull out the small bottle of whiskey hidden at the bottom. She poured some out onto the blade, “Tony, take your belt off.”_

_“What?” Anthony blinked at his sister in confusion, blood rushing to his pale face._

_“Take your belt off and give it ta Henry ta bite on.”_

_“Oh! Right.” Anthony undid his belt, folded it in half and handed it to his friend. Molly sat next to them on the couch with the freshly disinfected knife._

_She looked her brother in the eye. “Hold him.”_

_Anthony stood behind the couch and wrapped an arm firmly across Henry’s chest, pinning his left shoulder upright so he wouldn’t move and hurt himself more. The blonde had to bend a bit to hold his friend steady, causing their cheeks to almost touch. Henry put his left hand over Anthony’s, giving it a pat as he braced himself. Molly moved closer with the knife._

_“You done this before?” Henry asked with a forced smirk, the sight of Molly so close with a blade fired warning bells in his head._

_“No,” Molly said nervously, “But I seen my dad do it plenty a’ times, so how hard can it be?”_

_“I swear to God, you fuckin’ Scavos are gonna be the death of me,” Henry groaned, biting down on the belt as he gripped Anthony’s hand tighter._

_Blinding pain seared through Henry’s mind as Molly dug into his shoulder with the tip of the knife. His vision swam and his teeth clamped harder on the leather._

_It felt like an hour of agony, but it had probably been something more akin to thirty seconds when the brunette felt Molly remove the projectile that had been lodged in his arm._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Got it!”_

_Molly tossed the knife to the side and grabbed Henry’s already bloody shirt, pressing it back to the now open wound. Henry let the leather drop from his mouth as he leaned back against Anthony’s shoulder, gulping down air. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath._

_“Tony, hold that there while I run back ta the house for Iodine and bandages,” Molly stood and swiped the gun off of the crate, “And I’m puttin’ this back. Ya betta hope Nico and Dad ain’t home or I swear on Christ you’re gonna be in so much trouble._

_“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Anthony weakly laughed out. Henry couldn’t help but let out a tired chuckle of his own. The adrenaline fueled tension was still palpable but calming now that the bullet had been extracted._

_“You two are fuckin’ nuts,” Molly said with a shake of her head, turning to leave._

_“Molls! Wait!” Henry called out with as much energy as he could muster. The blonde girl stopped and looked back. “There’s….there’s still a bullet left. The clip was empty when Tony took it. If your old man or Nico sees a bullet in there, they’ll know somethin’s up. Take it out and toss it in the sewer or somethin’ on the way home.”_

_The little shit may have shot him but Henry would be damned if he let his best friend get his ass kicked because he forgot to leave no trace. Henry was the brains to Anthony’s crazy schemes and silver tongue, after all. More than that, there was nothing that Henry hated more than seeing Anthony get hurt._

_Molly popped the clip out, removed the single bullet and nodded at Henry._

_“Don’t bleed on my magazine while I’m gone!” She called as she shut the door behind her._

_As soon as Molly left, Anthony gave Henry’s hand that he was still holding a little squeeze._

_“Ah, sorry. Need my hand back. Moll’s said I gotta hold the...shirt.” His face was flushed. The adrenaline seemed to be catching up to him. Henry nodded and lifted his hand from where he was keeping Anthony’s pinned on his good shoulder._

_Anthony walked around the front of the couch and sat next to his friend, pressing the shirt against his wound, biting his lip in concern. At least the bullet was out now. Henry was still taking deep breaths, trying his best to not pass out from the pain. Having Anthony there at least helped calm his own panic._

_“Didn’t have ta do that y’know… tell her about the clip. I deserve ta get in trouble.” Anthony spoke up, breaking the awkward silence in the room. The blonde looked like a kicked puppy, guilt written all over his face and in his big brown eyes._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Nah. I got yer back. Even if you fuckin’ shoot me. You should know that by now,” Henry watched as a small smile appeared on the blonde’s face, followed by a weak laugh. Henry always liked Anthony’s smile, even the sheepish ones he gave when he knew he fucked up._

_“Y’know, thank god I’m a shitty shot or you’d be dead. Count your blessin’s.”_

_Henry let out another tired laugh, shaking his head. He could feel Tony’s breath puffing against his shoulder as the blonde pressed the shirt against the wound. Henry’s head felt like it was buzzing as he looked at Anthony. He really did have nice eyes. They matched that nice smile. Henry blinked… where the fuck did that come from? Probably just the blood loss._

_"Just hit your target next time instead of me, dumbass,” Henry smiled despite the pain._

_Anthony mustered another small smile in return, “I’ll try.”_

Husk took a huffing breath as he heard the wolverine’s scream cut short. He felt a small splash of what he could only assume was blood against his leg and the sound of more screams and footsteps hauling ass in retreat. Husk rolled over onto his stomach with a groan before pushing himself up to his knees. A shadow fell over him.

“My, my, my Husker, I do think the last time you were this sloppy you had a whole bottle of bourbon in you,” Al grinned, his eyes glowing and head tilting as he looked the injured cat over. Husk half-growled up at him as he held his shoulder, “Nevertheless, I did find your attempt to try to take down three demons at once _paws_ -itively delightful, haha!” Alastor laughed at his own awful pun.  
  
“You gonna help me up, or are you just gonna be an asshole?”  
  
“I don’t see why I can’t do both,” Alastor’s grin widened as he pulled Husk to his feet. The cat let out a yell of pain as his shoulder was jostled and the deer’s smile grew. Husk pulled away from Alastor violently once he was on his feet. The Radio Demon stepped to the side and gestured towards the hotel with his microphone, “After you, my friend.”  
  
“You’re a dick,” Husk snarled, flipping Alastor off as he limped inside. His shoulder throbbed with a deeper pain than the wound should have given him. Husk plopped down on the couch in the lobby with a groan. Nuggets let out a loud squeal, trotting over to the cat as he came in, staying close to his legs without getting in the way.  
  
Alastor walked up behind the couch, lacing his fingers together before stretching them outwards with a crack. 

“Now then, let’s see what we can do,” A small fanfare sound came from the ether as he placed a hand on Husk’s injured shoulder. The cat demon let out a yell as he felt Alastor’s magic course through him, flesh knitting back together enough to slow the bleeding, but not entirely stop it. Alastor snapped, manifesting a roll of bandages, and made his way around the side of the sofa. 

He grabbed Husk’s leg, taking a look at the deep claw marks. The Radio Demon tsked, hand gliding above the wounds. Husk’s shoulders slumped slightly in relief as the magic seemed to remove most of the pain. Alastor wrapped the wound quickly before moving closer to begin wrapping the cat’s shoulder and arm.  
  
“You were distracted,” Alastor said. It was a statement of observation more than anything else. He paused as he slid the bandages under Husk’s wing and over the wound again, “Was your mind elsewhere?” 

“Nope. We ain’t doin’ this. Not now, not ever.” Husk scowled at the Radio Demon as he continued to patch him up.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget your constant need to drink and wallow and forget.” Al chuckled cruelly, bits of static amplifying his laughter. “Very well, I shall respect your...desire to remain quiet. For now.”Alastor gave a particularly hard tug on the bandage that he was fastening. Husk let out a yelp and a low growl, baring his teeth at Al. 

It took a few more minutes of work for The Radio Demon to properly bandage the worst of Husk’s injuries. Then, without a word, he helped the cat stand and walked with him over to the bar. The deer didn’t let Husk lean on him, probably because he wanted to watch him limp his way across the lobby like a sadistic fuck, but he did stay close. Like he was ready to spot Husker if he needed it. Trying to figure out this guy’s moral compass hadn’t gotten any easier for Husk over the past fifty plus years.

“Well then, Husker. Now that I’ve been thoroughly entertained and you’re done bleeding all over Charlie’s couch, I must head out for the evening. I have a lovely dinner planned with Rosie and I shan’t be late.” The deer turned on his heels, looking back at Husk with another wide grin. “Au revoir.”

After watching Al flit out the door with the sounds of a tuning radio, Husk slumped down in his seat at reception. He took a swig from his bottle every few minutes to help numb the pain. Absent-mindedly petting Fat Nuggets, he let the echoes of the past swirl in his head once again.

Husk wasn’t sure if he wanted to embrace the memory. Or maybe he wanted to push it down? Either way, whether he wanted it or not, he was remembering more and more about the best friend he eventually lost. Anthony.

Husk made a noise of disapproval, drinking deeply as he tried to push it all away. He didn't have time to focus on all that past bullshit. It was pointless. And it hurt. He had better crap to do. Like watch Angel's dumb pet pig. 

Angel….

He hadn't come home last night. Or at all yet today. Husk rolled his eyes at his thoughts. Fuck. Just a few evenings of shooting the shit and now he was wondering about the spider's well being? This was stupid. All of it was so stupid. And yet, he still let himself wonder and stare at the entrance to the lobby, chugging down more bourbon as if doing so would cause Angel Dust to walk back into the hotel.

Suddenly the front door clicked and squeaked open, black-booted legs stepping into the foyer. Husk nearly choked on his liquor.

"Well, I'll be damned." He mumbled to Fat Nuggets. The pig perked up, snuffling as Angel made his way closer to the bar.

He looked...relatively upbeat. Normally when he was gone this long, he came back in a shit mood and looking even worse. Husk gave him an inquisitive once-over, the grin on the porn star's face growing as he saw Nuggets waiting for him at the front desk.

"My sweet baby boy! C'mere!" Angel scooped Fat Nuggets into his upper arms and peppered him with kisses. "Daddy is so so sorry he left for so long! I had ta go cause some mayhem wit’ Auntie Cherri!"

"Pfft!" Husk gave a dry laugh, silently glad to know that Angel had been with his best friend. "What did you two pink pansies blow up this time?"

"Oh, shit Husky! It was so fuckin' fun! Cherri got a new rocket launcher and we blew up one of Vox's billboards and then we got ta beat up some of those henchmen that work for that snakey fuck and then we got tweaked outta our minds and went dancin' til the sun came up!" Angel gushed. He kept the first part of the day out with Cherri to himself, knowing it was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. The cyclops had managed to distract him, help the spider shake the weird frustration he had felt the day before. Now he just wanted to chill. He could always think about it later, when he was alone.

"Sounds like a pretty tame night for you, in all fuckin' honesty." The cat's grin was teasing as he shifted in his chair. He hissed a little, pain blossoming to the surface of his leg. He had nearly forgotten he was almost carved up just an hour before.

Angel's brows furrowed, finally seeing the bandages wrapped around Husker's arm, back and torso. A pang of worry hit him between the ribs, "Yo, the fuck happened ta you?"

"Nothin'. Just some Крысиные ублюдки who kept tryin’ to mess with the hotel. I had 'em handled." Husk grimaced and looked away. "Well, me and Al had 'em handled."

"Yeah, sure, kitty cat," The spider snorted in disbelief, pushing down the mental images of Husk getting hurt. He raised an eyebrow, “The fuck is a cry-siner blue-kee?”

“Mean’s rat bastard. Russian. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He chuckled at Angel’s horrid pronunciation and gave a wave of his hand, pushing the sign-in book closer to the spider, “Princess was out last night doin’ some sort of advertising shit for the hotel, so she didn’t notice you were gone.”  
  
Angel just sat there blinking at the cat.  
  
“Ya speak Russian?”

“Yeah...And a couple other languages,” Husk rubbed the back of his neck, face heating up as he avoided looking at the spider. He felt put on the spot all of a sudden. Flustered.

“Not gonna lie, that’s pretty fuckin’ hot~” Angel Dust leaned forward on the bar top, giving Husk bedroom eyes. Multilingual guys turned Angel on like crazy. God, this kitty cat just kept pulling surprises out of his sleeve. He was so hot. And sweet. And…

And injured. The old man looked wrecked. And Angel had just tried to brush it off. He hadn’t wanted to think about Husk getting hurt or show him he actually cared. Even though all he wanted to do right now was care. Fuck it. 

“You, uh….ya sure you’re okay? That shit looks nasty,” Angel watched as Husk sat back down with a small groan of pain.  
  
“Fine. Nothin’ I can’t handle.”  
  
Angel bit his lip for a moment in thought.  
  
“Wait here.” He said, dashing away from the desk, Nuggets in his arms. 

Husk rolled his eyes and let his head tilt forward, feeling exhausted. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The memory of Anthony being so close and the feeling of their hands gripping together bounced around in his mind. Husk didn’t even notice Angel walking back up to the desk. The spider could apparently walk very quietly when he wanted to.  
  
Angel tapped the bar top with his finger, causing Husk to jump just a bit. The porn star held up a little pill bottle and gave it a shake before setting it down on the counter.  
  
“From the Official Angel Dust Home Care Kit,” He said with a grin. Husk let out an amused snort and raised his eyebrow.  
  
“Side effects?” the old man asked, voice tinged with sarcasm. 

“Please, if ya think I’m sharin’ anythin’ harder than my weed with ya, ya got another thing comin’.” Angel flicked one of Husk’s ears lightly and pushed the pills closer to him. “They’ll help though.”

“Thanks, Legs.” Husk said, tossing two pills back with a swig of booze.  
  
“You prol’ly shoulda used water.”  
  
“You prob’ly should mind yer business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian Translations:  
> [Hear that boys? Old man wants us to get off the deer’s turf. Like he can make us.]
> 
> [Kitty thinks he’s scary.]
> 
> [I can fucking understand you, assholes. Get out of here and we won’t have a problem.]
> 
> [Ohhh, you can understand us, can you? Well, let’s see if you can understand this!] 
> 
> [Fancy footwork for an old cat]
> 
> [You talk too much] 
> 
> [Not quick enough]
> 
> [rat bastards]
> 
> 1\. We do not condone the HORRID gun safety portrayed in this chapter. Never look down the barrel of a gun. Always have the safety on when not in use. Never have your finger on the trigger unless you intend to shoot. Do not shoot your crush. 
> 
> 2\. Wound Care: If you have something lodged in your body and you're bleeding: Don't remove the thing that's causing you to bleed and go to the hospital. For the love of god don't pull the thing out. 
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. From 1930-1931 the Italian mob underwent a massive overhaul during a period known as the Castellamarese war. The wars were ended officially when Charles "Lucky" Luciano ordered a hit on Maranzano and established the Five Families of the Italian Mob. This format was created to help deter vendettas and other infighting that only caused internal issues. This allowed the mob to reach new heights of control in America. 
> 
> 2\. There really was no official age restriction of when people could become involved in the mob. Enrico is preventing Anthony from becoming more involved because he is a dick. 
> 
> 3\. The Colt M1911 was the gun of choice for many mobsters following the drop in popularity of the Tommy Gun. It was easy to conceal and easy to fire.


	5. Behind the Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addictive cycles and haunting emotions bring positive and negative memories back to Angel Dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This is when things will start to get heavier. We will NEVER write explicit assault, but it is implied here. Content will begin to be more 18+ moving forward. We do not condone minors reading this content. This chapter also includes derogatory language that was typical for the time period when Anthony and Henry were alive. 
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia.
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

Angel sighed as he lounged on the couch in Charlie’s “Counseling” room. It was one of the hotel bedrooms that she had repurposed to look more like a therapist’s office. There was a long couch covered in soft pillows across from a plush reading chair with a coffee table. A corner of the room was set up with an easel for art therapy. There was also a toy chest full of hand puppets that Niffty and Charlie had made so that sinners could act out their feelings. Or some shit like that. Angel had refused to use them “appropriately”, so fuck if he knew.

It had been months of meeting with the Princess of Hell, listening to her talk about healing circles and redemption and the power of friendship. And, shit, was it annoying.

Angel didn’t hate Charlie. Hell, he didn’t even dislike her that much now. But she was just so goody-goody. And, while she said she cared about him, he knew it was mostly to further her own agenda. Charlie needed a soul redeemed so that she could prove her theory to her old man, as well as all of Hell. The porn star wasn’t stupid. Charlie being nice to Angel was a means to an end, just like most of his relationships. He treated her with the same caution he treated most everyone else. But he had to admit, it _was_ getting easier to open up to her, just a little.

“So, Angel. You mentioned something was up? Do you...wanna tell me about it?” Charlie sat forward in her chair, giving Angel a gentle smile.

“Psh...I guess.” the spider blew upwards to get his bangs out of his eyes and shrugged. “That shit ya wanted me ta remember, my memories from life? Some started comin’ back or whateva. Figured I’d tell ya.”

Charlie beamed and hugged her notepad to her chest, “Oh Angel! That’s wonderful! I mean some of those memories must be difficult, of course...but now we can start to work on them! Reflecting on mistakes so as not to repeat them! Oh, this is great news!”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes. Of course she was excited. She didn’t get it, being Hell-born. The struggle and shock of an unknown past flooding back was….a lot. But maybe he could pick her brain about some of the things that he couldn’t shake. Like crap with his dad. And Henry…

“Meh, it ain’t that big a deal, babe. Dad sucked, Ma and sibs were fine, coupl’a kids I grew up with,” He crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch, trying to seem aloof, “Nuttin’ earth shatterin’.”

“Are you sure? There’s nothing...sticking out in your mind?” Charlie gave Angel a studying eye. “Maybe there’s something you _might_ want to talk about? If not the memories, then maybe about how I’ve noticed you cutting back on the drugs a bit.”

The porn star sighed, torn between feeling annoyed at her prying and glad she asked. She was right about the drugs. Angel couldn’t remember things very well when he was high. And forgetting was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He didn’t want to lose that familiar smile that had meant so much to him.

“Okay. Fine. Yeah, there’s some crap that’s stickin’ out. Memories about this kid I knew growin’ up. Rememberin’ him makes me feel… different from the other memories. Happy. Real happy.” Angel softened, letting the admission fall from his lips. The only other person he’d told this to was Cherri. But telling Charlie made him feel really and truly vulnerable. He snapped himself back behind his emotional wall again, “But it’s honestly dumb. Just us bein’ kids and shit. Nuttin’ special.”

“I don’t think it’s dumb, Angel. I think it’s lovely. You’re reconnecting with your childhood innocence and humanity.”

Angel couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

“Innocence? Babe, from what’s fuckin’ come back to me about my childhood, none of it was really ‘innocent’.”

“Well, regardless of your...lack of childhood innocence...I think you should keep trying to remember. It seems to be doing you some good. And hopefully it will help you reflect on your sins and then we can work on them here!”

“Yeah, sure, princess. We’ll see if I believe in redemption at that point.” Angel barked a laugh and examined his fingernails. 

It was kinda nice that Charlie wanted him to keep aiming for more memories. Made him feel a little less crazy about chasing them like he was. So far he only remembered three solid moments with Henry and a few super choppy ones in between them that added a little context of the shit they got up to as kids. Lots of getting dragged home by the cops and icing each other’s bruises. What he wouldn’t give for more of their time together to come back to him.

“-huh, Angel?” the spider snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he missed what Charlie had said.

“Uh….what?” 

“I _said_ ,” Charlie gave him a nonplussed look, “You seem to be hanging out a lot with Husk these days. It’s good that you two are getting along...or at least, I think you’re getting along? Sometimes it’s a teeny bit hard to tell...”

“Ha!” a flush spread across Angel’s freckles. He flashed a grin that he hoped came off as confident but felt more flustered and anxious than anything else. The blonde demon before him arched a brow, almost in question. Angel’s smile softened reluctantly; it was definitely easier for him to hide his feelings about his human life than it was to hide his feelings about Husk, “Yeah, yeah. The old fuck is growin’ on me. He’s a good guy.”

“Well, I support your friendship! Just….please stop trying to hit nearby property with baseballs. Please? We’ve been getting calls,” Charlie gave Angel a hopeful smile.

“I ain’t makin' any promises.” 

* * *

A few hours after morning therapy, Angel strut his way into the lobby of Porn Studios, feeling the eyes of every Tom, Dick and Harry roaming his body. 

Out in the streets he was viewed as a sex object, like a fleshlight with a pretty face. But here? Here, every soul viewed him as a prized puppet. He was put on a pedestal as people watched Valentino pull his strings. It was a tough line for him to walk; torn between loving the attention and hating who helped him get it. It had taken him a long time to realize that the way Val saw him was basically as a show-dog that could be kicked around at will. But fuck if he didn’t feel like he deserved it some days.

It wasn’t like he could leave even if he didn’t feel like he deserved it, anyway.

He got in the elevator that took him directly to Valentino’s penthouse, smoking one of his special cigarettes from the pimp. After opening up to Charlie he knew he’d need a little pick-me-up to be “presentable” for the boss. If Charlie had noticed he wasn’t as coked out as usual, then there was no doubt Valentino would as well. 

Weirdly enough, he hadn’t been craving the hard stuff as much the past week or so; he was mostly sticking to weed and a few different uppers here and there. At the very least, he knew the red smoke curling around him was something Val liked to see. The buzz filled his head and added some pep to his step as he flounced his way into his boss’s office, a confident smile plastered on his face.

Valentino sat on a plush chair, an androgynous and scantily clad demon curled on his lap as he scrolled through his phone. Angel remembered those days, when he was one of Val’s rotating play-things. Fuck, those days were still kind of a thing when Val needed to make a statement. Being at the pimp’s beck and call to be arm candy was part of the job. 

Valentino looked up from his phone and tapped his current lap warmer on the thigh. The demon lifted their head, kissing the pimp’s cheek before slipping off of his lap. Angel looked them over as they passed each other; poor fuck was so blitzed it was a miracle that they were walking upright.

“Angel, baby, there you are~”

Angel’s attention was drawn back to Valentino as a tendril of red smoke curled around him, turning his head. The porn star put a coy smile on his face as he sauntered over, stubbing the end of the cigarette out on a crystal ashtray. Valentino’s teeth gleamed in his infamous sharp grin that twisted at Angel’s stomach. The spider could tell the difference between a pleased smile and one that meant he was in trouble. This….This was the second one.

When he was within arms reach, Valentino pulled the pink demon into his lap with a forceful tug. Angel caught himself on the pimp’s chest, quickly adjusting his hands so it didn’t look like he was pushing his boss away. A gloved finger tilted Angel’s face upwards. 

“Where’s your head been lately, darlin’,” A hand pet through Angel’s hair, too gentle to do anything but set the porn star on edge.

“Dunno what ya mean, Big Vee,” Angel said with a smile, “Y’know my head’s always here with you~.” He smoothed his hand over the fluff of the pimp’s coat. 

The hand in his hair turned painful, nails digging into his scalp and jerking his head backwards. Angel let out a pained squeak that he quickly cut off by biting his lip. Val never liked to hear noises unless he explicitly asked for them.

“Don’t. Lie. To me,” The demon snarled. He released his grip on Angel’s hair. Angel momentarily tightened his grip on Val’s coat, bracing for another hit, before relaxing again, “It’s unattractive.”

“Just… stupid shit at the hotel. Ain’t worth your time hearin’ about it,” Angel tried to keep his tone laid-back. He’d be fucked if he mentioned the memories. He’d be even more fucked if he mentioned Husk.

“You zoning out on three different sets makes it something I need to hear about,” Valentino blew out another breath of red smoke, hands tightening on Angel’s waist with a sharp grip to contrast his smooth voice, “Tell Daddy what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby,” He purred, one hand lifting to cup Angel’s face.

Angel hated how small Valentino always made him feel. The pimp was tall, but it was more than that. It was the way he spoke to him. The way Valentino always assumed there was nothing going on in his head except a high. The way that Valentino saw a pretty face and wet hole attached to a punching bag. Angel swallowed and rolled his shoulders back, pressing his fluff against Val’s chest. 

“I promise, Daddy,” Angel said after a moment, kissing the pimp’s thumb as it passed over his lips, “It’s nothin’. Just the princess spewin’ her redemption bullshit. It gets ta ya after a while.”

“Hmm,” Valentino settled back more in his seat as he took another drag and smiled, “Get your shit together, Angel-cakes. I catch you thinking about that bullshit, as you so cleverly put it, then you and I are gonna have a problem. You don’t want us to have a problem, do you sweetheart?”

“No, Val.”

“Good boy. Go to your shoot, make them remember why you’re here in the first place,” Valentino’s claws released Angel’s waist as he dutifully kissed his pimp’s cheek. The porn star slid from his lap carefully and stood to leave

Angel kept his arms to his sides as much as he could, despite the overwhelming desire to curl in on himself. The star pushed the elevator button, straightening his shoulders again. Valentino always yelled at him when he slouched. Besides, the only people who needed to know what happened inside this office were him and his boss. He had a persona to uphold

“Oh, and Angel,” Valentino called. Angel swallowed, turning around to look at the overlord, “Don’t disappoint me.” There was no smile on Valentino’s face this time. Angel nodded.

“Yes sir, Mista Valentino.”

_New York July 1934_

_Anthony followed his father and Nico down second avenue, doing his best to not step on his father’s heels. At seventeen years old, and with a little weapons training under his belt, he was finally getting a solid assignment. Ricky had been assigning formal jobs to pretty much everyone_ **_but_ ** _his youngest son for years now, choosing to pick someone else over Anthony or to just simply ignore him as an option. But now that he was almost an adult, their father finally seemed to deem him worthy of a job._

_“So,” Anthony asked, tucking his hands in his pockets, “Ya gonna tell me where we’re goin’, Pop?” He squared his shoulders, standing taller as they walked._

_The last thing he wanted to do was to screw this up. His father was actually giving him a chance to prove himself. Enrico turned sharply down an alleyway, Anthony almost tripping on his feet as he followed._

_“We’re here,” Enrico said, opening a nondescript door in the alley. Anthony squinted just a bit, but walked inside first._

_The back stairwell was dimly lit, leading into the dark. Anthony could hear the faint sounds of a band tuning their instruments. He followed his father and Nico up the stairs to a backstage area. Dressing room doors were open, revealing beautiful dresses and tuxedos on costume racks, large vanities lining the walls. Anthony couldn’t help but smile. He’d never been somewhere like this; it was like a glamorous fantasy world. Like something from the movies Anthony loved to watch._

_“Tony, welcome to the 181 Club,” Enrico said, pushing aside a curtain on the edge of the stage. Anthony blinked._

_The main room of the club was beautiful. Tables sat just beyond a large dance floor. From the red carpet on the floor, to the polished mahogany of the main bar, to the crystal chandelier on the ceiling; everything was pristine. Dazzling._

_Nico snapped in front of his brother’s face._

_“Focus, idiot.” He muttered. Anthony had hit a growth spurt around age fifteen and now stood a good six inches taller than his older brother, so a smack on the back of the head wasn’t really an option anymore. Tony was thrilled, Nico was less pleased. The blonde took two large steps to catch up with their father who was still walking forward._

_“Now,” Enrico started, grabbing his youngest by the shoulders, “Franse is gonna be your front man, ya got any questions you ask him. All we need ya to do is come and get the interest money once a week, maybe help run some numbers here and there. Cash needs to be turned into me by Sunday evenings, got it?”_

_“Yes, sir,” Anthony said nodding._

_“You come through the back door, okay? I don’t want anyone seein’ my kid comin’ to a fuckin’ pansy bar through the front.”_ _  
_

_The teenager stopped in his tracks, looking at his dad with wide, surprised eyes._

_“Pansy bar? You’re putting me on loan detail for a fuckin’ pansy bar?”_

_“Keep your fuckin’ voice down and mind your goddamn language. Money’s money, Tony, you know that,” Ricky said sharply, steering him to the bar. He eyed the bartender with a stern glare, switching to Italian, “Stai alla larga dai froci e dal toccare le droghe, capito? E ascolta, se fai un buon lavoro qui, potrei riuscire a parlare con gli altri, farti ottenere un accordo migliore, un po' più di lavoro. SE provi che te lo puoi meritare. Capito?”_

_Anthony stopped and looked at his father. He tried not to let hope show on his face; he had to keep it serious if he was gonna prove to his old man that he could do a good job here and maybe finally get made. The blonde straightened his shoulders and gave a short, solid nod._

_“Non mi deludere.”_

_“Sì signore. Non lo farò.”_

The memory swirled in Angel’s mind as he came to his dressing room. He went in and shut the door behind him. Flicking the lock, he pressed his back to the wood as the feelings of wanting his father’s approval hit him like a ton of bricks. All the expectations, all the ‘maybe next time’s, all the ‘I’ll decide if you’re good enough’s. 

God, those feelings haunted him. And honestly, they never really left.

The porn star made his way to sit at his vanity to start putting on his face for his shoot that day. He looked at the schedule. Full drag, huh? Honestly, fucking fully painted was pretty fun. It was a pain to make sure his wig was secure enough but other than that, it was mostly a good time. Plus he was filming with Bax, who was definitely one of his less shitty coworkers. Maybe today would suck less, after all.

Angel applied creams and powders, sparkly eye-shadow and eyeliner, lipstick and extra long fake eyelashes. A ritual so practiced that it felt like putting on his boots. It allowed him to focus on something besides that memory of his dad and that talk he just had with Val. Those feelings were overwhelming. Makeup was relaxing; a welcomed distraction. Angel smiled in the mirror, feeling good in his body for a moment before reaching for the long blonde wig on the table.

He secured it tightly to his head and then stood to put on the cute lingerie the crew had hung next to a zipped up garment bag. Probably his dress. He hoped it was a pretty color...anything but purple. Val had been putting him in a lot of purple lately for some reason. Angel Dust lifted and fluffed his chest into the lacey bra and adjusted the panties low on his hips. Normally, if he was performing, he’d tuck right about now but that was a waste of time for filming. His dick would be out in twenty minutes or less, anyway.

The spider nodded at himself in the mirror and then turned to free his costume from it’s bag. A beautiful red dress, in a silky fabric, was revealed. Thank fuck it wasn’t purple.

Angel touched the material, rubbing it gently between his thumb and forefinger.

_August 1934_

_It had been almost a month at the 181 club and Anthony was feeling good. Great, even. He’d already been given more responsibility, his father’s blessing and curt approval coming with it. It felt like he was on the right track to being made, just like he always wanted._

_Balancing the numbers was a lot of work but it made him feel like the Family believed in him. Like his own family believed in him. He even had his own office, though that was mostly because Ricky wanted him to keep a low profile here. Anthony wasn’t allowed out into the main area of the club, no matter how fun the shows sounded. He had to stay behind the curtain or in his office._

_To Anthony, that was a tough but fair trade off. Especially if it meant keeping the respect he wanted from his old man, the other wise guys and, hell, even the queers working at the club._

_He’d talked a bit with some of the workers and performers backstage and they were actually kinda nice. Funny. Smart. They liked a lot of the same things Anthony did; movies featuring glamorous actors and actresses, music, live shows, dumb drinking games, witty sarcasm. He had been a bit cold to them at first but a few weeks in and Tony Scavo was realizing that the hate for these people was actually… ridiculous. They were just people, as good or bad as anyone else. He may not have been okay with their...lifestyle...but he got along better with them than most of the mob guys he knew, that was for sure._

_As Anthony walked through the backstage area of the 181 for his normal shift, he gave small nods to the few workers he had met here and there. The blonde took his hat off as he rounded the corner from the top of the stairs, heading down the hall to the previously unused dressing room he’d turned into his office. He shouldered open the door and looked up to see two men sitting on his couch, kissing deeply._

_“Whoa!” Anthony immediately turned around, his face on fire. He’d seen people kissing before, sure; but never two… two…_

_“Hey!” A voice perked up next to him. Anthony raised his eyes from the ground and saw a man standing next to his doorway. He wore a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, suspenders, and suit trousers; a pair of round glasses perched on his nose and a bundle of shiny red fabric in his arms. He must have been in his late thirties and was someone Tony hadn’t formally met yet, though he’d seen him around the club. The man looked into the room with a bemused expression, “You two! Don’t you have some place better to swap spit?”_

_Anthony wasn’t looking but he heard the two men stand. “We were just-”_

_“Beat it, before I scrap you two from the chorus,” The man’s voice was firm and very, very blunt. The two men scurried from the dressing room, one winking at Anthony as he walked by, “Morons,” The man in the glasses shook his head with a grumble._

_The blonde fixed his gaze at a particularly interesting piece of wood flooring, doing his best to will away the heat in his cheeks. He had never seen two men kiss before. It was….unsettling? Like a car crash. His heart was pounding and he couldn’t shake it from his mind._

_“You okay, kid?” The man asked. Anthony’s head snapped up._

_“Hm? What? Uh.. yeah, fine. I’m fine. It’s fine.” the blonde walked a few steps into his office._

_The man in the glasses looked Anthony over cautiously. He walked closer and stuck his hand out for a handshake._

_“I’m Roy. Roy Matthews. I’m the stage manager and head of costuming. I’ve seen you around, but I don’t think we had the chance to meet yet. You tend to stay in your office.”_

_Anthony nervously shook the man’s hand._

_“Tony.”_

_“You’re one of Stevie’s associates, right?”_

_“Stevie?”_

_“Mr. Franse.”_

_“Oh. Yeah. I’m just one of the money guys,” He rubbed the back of his neck trying to find a way to change the subject from work, “What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the crimson fabric. Roy smiled and unraveled it to reveal a gorgeous red dress._

_“It’s for one of the boys that’s getting out of the chorus. If he ever gets his ass here for a fuckin’ fitting,” Roy grumbled, “Fucking queens,” He folded the dress back over his arm, leaving it draped. Anthony reached over to pick part of the dress up, rubbing the material between his fingers and shifting it in the light of the backstage area._

_“Pretty,” Anthony said with a half smile, letting the fabric drop again, “Sorry, I’ll let ya get back ta work. Pretend I ain’t even here,” He offered Roy a small smirk before walking the rest of the way into his office. He eyed the couch carefully, half expecting it to leap off the wall._

_His mind was racing. Instead of the two men who were on his couch, his brain began conjuring images of him and the one who winked at him. And then it shifted to Henry sitting there. Smiling at him… kissing him. Anthony shook his head, blushing furiously at the thoughts._

_He shouldn’t be thinking of Henry like that. Henry was his friend. Just his friend. Why did his heart flip when he thought of kissing him? That was bad. Wrong._

_“What exactly do they have you doin’ here?” Roy asked, leaning against the door, observing Tony. The teenager shrugged, not saying a word, still mentally shaming himself for his thoughts. Plus, he knew better than to talk business with outsiders, lest the cops get called. Roy let out a dry laugh, “Kid if you think my ass is gonna go to the police about whatever it is you’re doin’ here, you’re a dumber belle blonde than you look.”_

_Anthony shot him a glare, but only saw a kind, sarcastic smile in return. The man was serious. Anthony sat down in his chair near the vanity, running a hand through his hair in thought._

_“Makin’ sure we’re hitting the numbers we gotta hit. Passin’ interest payments off ta my capo. Just basic shit while Mr. Franse is off handlin’ a couple other clubs,” He offered Roy another small smile._

_“You ever come out front to see the show?”_

_“Nah,” Anthony laughed, “My pops doesn’t want me up front. Don’t even want people ta know I’m here.”_

_Roy gave the teenager a once over and chuckled, “Do you_ **_want_ ** _to see the show?”_

_“Well… yeah. Really bad. But people would see me.”_

_“Not if they don’t know it’s you,” Roy shrugged, a knowing smile on his face._

* * *

_Anthony’s cheeks were still red as he looked down. Roy was crouched near the ground, threading pins through the bottom hem of the dress._

_“There,” He stood up and took Anthony by the shoulders, turning him around, “Tell me whatcha think.”_

_The blonde blinked at his reflection. He looked… beautiful. He felt it, too. It was like he stepped into a second version of himself that he never knew was there. The red dress hugged each part of his body perfectly. A coat of lipstick, mascara and rouge painted his face. He turned a bit, looking himself over entirely._

_“It’s beautiful,” His eyebrows furrowed, struck with a feeling he couldn’t place._

_“I can hear you brain clicking. What’s goin’ through your head?”_

_“I look like a lady.”_

_“That’s the point."_

_“But doesn’t that mean-”_ _  
_

_“Kid. You’re a man in a dress. It’s not that deep. Unless you want it to be, but you don’t strike me as that kinda person.” He walked over to one of the shelves in the back of the dressing room, picking up a wig. Roy chuckled at Anthony’s wide eyed expression, “Doesn’t mean you gotta kiss any men or anythin’ either. Again, unless you wanna. Sit.” He gestured to one of the chairs._

_Anthony sat down, flushing as he imagined kissing another man for the second time that day. His eyes turned down as Roy helped him get the wig on. When he looked up he hardly recognized himself, blinking at his reflection as Roy adjusted the brown bob wig to frame his face better._

_“See?” Roy said with a smile, “No one will even know who you are. Now you can have some fun without having to worry.”_

_“Heh...yeah,” the thought of stepping into this world was alluring. New. Different. It gave Anthony rush that made him feel like a million bucks of real money._

_“You look very glamorous. Maybe one day you’ll take to the stage yourself. I think the spotlight would do you some good.”_

The spider demon sighed. Wow, had he been in gay denial. Whatever. He could think about it later. Right now he had to get to set. He had to keep his mind from wandering. Keep his eyes forward and Valentino happy. Angel left his dressing room and headed to set, lighting up another cigarette and inhaling the red smoke to try to push back his racing thoughts.

The crew was minimal, thankfully. A smaller shoot today. Angel didn’t know if he had it in him to handle anything bigger. 

The thought caused the spider to huff a laugh to himself.

“Something funny, Angie?” Bax, Angel’s coworker, came up behind him with script in hand. 

“Nah, suga. Just a dumb thing in my head.” they kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting and went to sit in their respective folding chairs to run lines.

The pair was called to shoot fairly quickly, the introduction scene being a simple “new, buff neighbor” scenario. Bax played the hunk role well, his large muscles straining in his tight shirt. Before he knew it, Angel was on his back on the bed, Bax on top of him, their lips pressing together. The scene became heated soon enough, the spider helping the other demon remove his shirt over his horns. But now, without any dialogue to remember or recite, Angel Dust’s mind began to shift.

He tried to stay focused on the touches as his coworker slid a hand up under his dress, pulling down his panties. He tried to think of Husk, imagining that it was his claws lifting up the red fabric and exposing his hips, waist and groin for the audience. Fantasizing about the bartender seemed to help him get in the right headspace these days...made it a little easier to focus. Angel tried to keep his head in the moment as he felt the camera on his body, the director’s eyes watching, the crew staring at him.

Suddenly he was...uncomfortable and unstable. Normally so many eyes on him made him feel more confident. The spider only really felt this way when he was with Val or a few specific clients. Yet, here the feeling was, crushing him under the spotlight, making him feel like it was a little harder to breathe.

Angel plastered a seductive grin on his face, tugging his coworker into another kiss. If he didn’t feel confident, he'd fake it till he was. He nipped at Bax’s lips and pulled away, looking directly into his eyes.

Big mistake

_Bright hazel eyes. A flash of a charming smile. A soft laugh._

Angel gasped, pushing Bax off of him. He rolled to the side of the bed, grabbing at the sheets as he tried to get his bearings. Heterochromatic eyes blinked at the carpet as Angel’s heart hammered in his ears.

“Cut!” Yelled the director. The spider barely registered it.

“You okay, Angel?” A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder. Too gentle. Angel didn’t need gentle, he needed to come back down from whatever his brain was doing. He shook his head and pushed his way off of the bed, pulling his dress back down and rushing past the cast and crew on his way to his dressing room. 

He slammed the door behind him, panting.

Two hands gripped the cold vinyl of his vanity while another two braced against the mirror. Angel huffed, gulping down air as he tugged the wig off of his head. It was too hot. The pornstar’s head was buzzing, stomach turning like it often did when he got a bad batch of drugs or when he’d been hit too hard. He swallowed thickly as he tried to find his bearings.

A knock on the door caused him to jolt upright, grip tightening on the counter. 

“Mister Angel Dust?” It was one of the on-set interns.

“Go away,” Angel managed to get out, voice weaker than he would have liked. The intern knocked again.

“Mister Angel Dust, I’m sorry, but Mister Valentino wants you in his office immediately.”

Angel looked back at himself in the mirror, eyes closing as his shoulders slumped.

Of course Valentino wanted to see him. 

* * *

The elevator opened with a ding. Angel let go of his arm that he was holding, knuckles cracking as they released their death-grip so he could fix his hair. He felt as though his legs would give out at any moment, heels clicking on the floor with each nervous step.

Valentino wasn’t sitting on his couch. He wasn’t sitting at all. Instead he was standing, looking down at a few pieces of paper on his desk. If Angel didn’t know any better, he would say that the pimp looked calm. But he knew exactly what storm was brewing behind that stoic face. He’d braved it too many times before.

“Angel-cakes,” Valentino purred, “Come here, darling, I need your help with something.”

Angel’s eyebrows furrowed.

“H-Help?” He repeated. Valentino nodded, still not looking up at his prized pet. Angel walked closer on shaky legs. The papers on Valentino’s desk weren’t papers at all. They were photographs. Headshots. Angel bit his lip as his boss walked around the desk, leaning against it as his shadow loomed over the porn star.

“Pick one.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Pick one,” He motioned to the desk, “You see, Angel baby, I have a very long line of souls out there. Souls who would kill for your spot. I figured if you’re going to continue to be such a disappointment, you could at least pick your replacement,” With each word, Valentino’s voice grew colder and colder. Angel shivered as he looked over the photos.

“Val-” Angel choked on his words as the pimp caught him off guard, grabbing him by the back of his neck. He slammed Angel forward with a sickening thud, holding him so that his face was pressed against the cold glass of the desk. 

“Do you know what you do when a pet makes a mess?” Val growled, tightening his grip. Angel stamped his leg as he tried to turn his head; the larger demon pushed harder, digging his claws into the tender skin of the spider's neck, “You stick their nose in it until they learn to behave.”

Angel kept his breaths shallow, knowing better than to waste his oxygen in such a hold. His hands trembled as he sat there frozen, waiting for another strike.

“Now, you listen to me, you stupid, useless slut,” the pimp growled, “Give me one _good_ reason I shouldn’t throw you out of my window and see you make another mess on the street. At least that one will give you all that attention you love so much.” 

Angel swallowed. He knew how these things went. He knew the script by now.

“I’ll be good for ya, Val. I promise. I won’t fuck up a shoot again, I swear.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Valentino pressed himself up against the spider, “I know there’s got to be some original thought floating around in that empty fucking head of yours.” His grip shifted from Angel’s neck to his hair, yanking it back, eliciting a whimper from the pink demon. Angel heard the pimp let out a pleased hum.

“Daddy,” Angel squeaked out, “I swear I won’t waste ya time on set again. I’ll be a good boy, just like ya want me ta be. My head ain’t been right! That bitch princess won’t let me have any of my good stuff at the hotel. She don’t care if I can’t do my job. I’ll get my shit together,” He worried his lip, hoping his half-truth would be believed.

Valentino flicked Angel’s head back towards the desk letting it collide with another thud. The spider demon pushed himself up on weak arms, head spinning from the impact and still on edge as Val walked around the desk. The click of the pimp’s heels always seemed so much louder when Angel was in trouble. 

Valentino sat in his chair, regarding his biggest star carefully before reaching into the desk drawer, pulling out a dime bag of white powder. He tossed it across the desk to Angel, knocking a couple of head shots aside as it slid across the glass. The moth let out a low chuckle.

“Oh baby,” Valentino said, voice deep and too gentle, “If that’s all you needed, you should have said so. You know Daddy always provides for his favorite star. Those morons don’t know you like I do, sweetness. They don’t know what you need.” 

Angel felt his heart sinking as he heard the pimp talk. The words were honeyed and sweet, comforting in their twisted way. Valentino always knew what to say to speak to that voice in Angel’s brain that could only be silenced by one thing. Angel reached out with a timid hand, opening the bag to dump out a small amount of powder onto the desk, using his pinky to line the drugs up. Valentino chuckled as he leaned over, handing the porn star a rolled up bill. 

“Go ahead, baby, you’ll feel better soon,” He hummed.  
  


_November 1934_

_Anthony bounded up the steps to Henry’s brownstone. He knew Mrs. Casey was at work right now. She worked up town as a dressmaker for a larger department store and with colder weather on the way she was bound to be busy. And that meant Henry was free to hang out._

_His hand reached out to knock on the door, but it was quickly opened before he had the chance. Henry stood there in his undershirt and slacks, hair a mess, blinking in surprise at Anthony._

_“Hey,” He said, a smile breaking across his face._

_“Hi?” Anthony’s brow quirked in confusion. The door pulled open further to reveal a young blonde woman, lipstick slightly smudged and buttons mismatched, on her way out. She blinked at Anthony, blushing furiously._

_“You must be Anthony,” She said, trying to sound friendly, “Henry’s told me all about you.”_

_“Ya buttons need ta be redone,” Anthony said dryly, not smiling back._

_“Right,” Her expression fell as she looked Anthony over with a critical eye, “I’ll see you Saturday?” She asked, looking back to Henry. The brunette turned his attention to the woman with a smile, nodding._

_“Yeah. Saturday,” he leaned forward, giving her a kiss on the cheek, arm wrapped around her waist in a half hug._

_“Lookin’ forward to it. Thanks, handsome.” The woman regarded Anthony with an upturned nose as she walked down the street. Anthony rolled his eyes, looking back to Henry._

_“That’s ya flavor of the week then?” He asked, crossing his arms. In the past year or so, Henry had garnered a reputation as a ladies man. They never stayed around for long, but Anthony never liked the girls he chose. They were all the same. Boring. Blonde. Like cheap knock-offs of Molly._

_“What? She’s nice,” Henry motioned for his friend to come in. Anthony followed him inside, trailing as Henry headed up the stairs._

_“Do ya even remember her name?” Anthony followed Henry into his room, nose wrinkling as they entered. He hung his suit coat up on the rack Henry kept by the door. He went to toss his hat down on the messed up bed but pulled back, setting it on the dresser instead._

_“It’s Ruth,” Henry said after too long of a pause, looking through his closet._

_“No, Ruth was the upper east side chick you were seein’ in July,” Anthony walked over to the window and threw it open, “Jesus, it fuckin’ stinks in here.”_

_"What? You jealous?” Henry laughed, pulling his undershirt off, “...It’s Irene.”_

_"Irene was March. Try again,” Anthony purposefully kept his eyes off of Henry and sat on the floor, grabbing a stack of playing cards to fiddle with while he let his back rest against the nightstand. He knew the man’s room almost as well as he knew his own._

_“Shit…” Henry stared at the ground, blinking for a moment. He snapped and pointed at Anthony, “Adelaide. It’s Adelaide. I’m sure of it,” He grabbed one of his suits out from the closet and laid it on the bed, nudging Anthony’s foot slightly to get his attention, “Your pops invited me to the game down by the 181. You comin’?”_

_“No. I gotta work.”_

_“Mind if I walk with ya then? Grab some food on the way?”_

_Anthony shrugged, “Yeah, that’s fine.” He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the cards, flipping them the way Henry had taught him years ago._

_“I gotta take a shower first, can ya wait?” When Anthony didn’t look up, Henry threw his undershirt at him._

_“Hey!” The blonde looked up at Henry with a glare and a bright blush. Suddenly, thoughts of kissing his best friend went through Anthony’s mind again._

_Over the past few months, Tony had kissed a few guys who had begun to hit on him at the club. Turns out being more social at the 181 made a lot of men notice him. He liked the attention, liked the way kissing other men felt. But no matter how many he kissed, he couldn’t shake the idea of kissing Henry instead. It felt...bad._

_“I said, can ya wait for me to take a shower before we go?”_

_Anthony’s eyes caught the scar on Henry’s shoulder. He’d apologized for that day so many times, but his heart still tugged every time he saw it. He turned his attention back to the cards, waving his friend off._

_“Yeah. Go shower, ya fuckin’ reek anyways.”_

_He heard Henry laugh as he walked out of the room._ _  
_ _  
_

* * *

_“Okay,” Henry said shoulder bumping Anthony, “What’s your fuckin’ problem today?”_

_“Dunno what ya mean.”_

_“Bullshit! You’ve been in a pissy mood since you saw Anna-”_

_“Adelaide.”_

_“Since you saw Adelaide leavin’ my house. What gives? I can’t fix shit if I don’t know what I did wrong in the first place.”_

_“Just… I think ya can do betta,” Anthony said with a shrug, “Ya gotta find someone that ya ain’t gonna just dump after a few weeks of fuckin’em. People’re gonna think you’re a fuckin’ hooker with how quickly ya got broads moving through that place.”_

_Henry laughed and shook his head._

_“Well, maybe if you weren't so married to work you'd learn why it's more fun to keep the phone book open," Anthony shot his best friend a dirty look. Henry held up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay. Thank you for caring so deeply about my honor and shit. Really, it helps,” he followed Anthony down the alley to the back door of the 181. One of the older queens was leaning against the brick, cigarette tucked between her lips. Henry looked at his watch, “Allora, la mia partita dovrebbe finire intorno a mezzanotte. Posso passare più tardi e possiamo andare a prenderci da bere al Cotton Club o qualcosa del genere.”_

_Henry had managed to pick up Italian years ago; Anthony hadn’t been surprised at all. His friend was smart. Smart enough to know not to talk business in English around someone who could run and tell. It was nice though, hearing him speak it….Anothony wished they used it for more than just work. It sounded good in Henry’s voice._

_“L'ultimo spettacolo è alle 2:30, e dopo quello devo bilanciare i conti. Non voglio tenerti in piedi troppo a lungo,” Anthony lied through his teeth. The last thing he needed was Henry coming by on a night he was performing._

_Anthony had taken to the stage recently, joining the chorus once a month to perform. Roy’s comment had stuck in his head; the spotlight really did suit him. He felt like his best self when he was giving coy winks to other men from the stage, all dolled up in gems and satin. Roy was even helping him put together his own act._

_Usually after wrapping the last number of the night, Anthony and some of the other performers would stay after the club closed to have a drink. Or two. Or five. He would pass his friend’s the little bags of wite powder his father would send him out with, taking their money with practiced ease. But, of course, he never partook._

_After last call was another story. It took him at least twenty minutes to scrub all the makeup from his face before he went home. Longer still if he was locking lips with another one of the chorus boys in his office. So far he had managed to keep any hickies hidden in places that he could easily hide and was usually home before the sun came up. But that meant meeting up with his best friend was out of the question._

_Henry could never know that part of him. Ever. He didn’t need his home life and his club life interacting any more than was necessary. And he especially didn’t want the brunette to know he was frenching other men. Henry would probably never want to talk to him again if he found that out._

_Henry shrugged, a half frown on his face._

_“Alright, I’ll see ya tomorrow then,” He said patting Anthony on the shoulder. He gave a tip of his hat to the queen, giving her the same politeness he would any other woman. She at least had the decorum to wait until Henry was down the street to look at Anthony with a critical eye._

_“Not too bright, your guy, is he?”_

_Anthony glared._

_“He’s plenty bright. And he’s- he ain’t mine.” the blonde blushed, “He’s just my friend. We grew up together. It’s nothin’. Really, he’s more like a brother than anythin’ else.”_

_“Oh, honey,” The queen laughed, stubbing the end of her cigarette out under her shoe, “You don’t have to lie about it.”_

_“I ain’t lyin’ about it. He ain’t mine,” Anthony looked in the direction that Henry was walking away. It was then that it clicked. He realized seeing Henry mess around with all those girls didn’t just make him irritated. It made his heart hurt. Henry could replace him with any of those girls any time he wanted. Henry wasn’t his. And he never would be._

_"He ain’t mine,” He repeated, “And he wouldn’t feel the same. Not ever.” Anthony took his hat off, running a hand through his hair, wishing he could smooth his mind with the same ease. All he wanted was for a chorus boy to tell him he was pretty and kiss his problems away._

_The queen pushed off the wall, the dim lights of the back alley making the purple sequins in her dress sparkle as she walked. She motioned for Anthony to follow her._

_“I’ve seen that look on many faces, kid. Ain’t the first time someone like us has been jerked around by someone like that, won’t be the last.” She led Anthony to her dressing room and pulled a tiny vial out from her vanity along with a small mirror. The second the white powder hit the mirror Anthony was waving his hands in front of his body._  
_  
_ “No. Nope. If my boss-"

_“If you’re talking about Stevie out front with the cheap suits and big title, he doesn’t have to know. And if you’re talkin’ bout your capo, he ain’t here. He’s the one who puts this stuff in the club anyway. I can see when someone needs to let loose. And I ain’t about to get wrapped up in mafia bullshit by ratting you and myself out,” She rolled up a dollar bill and handed it to Anthony, patting his back, “You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”_

_Anthony looked at the pile of powder on the table and then at the bill in his hand. And he thought of Henry. Henry having sex with that Adelaide girl. Henry judging him if he ever found out about his feelings. Henry walking away from him, choosing someone else...just like his dad always did. He didn’t want to think about those things._

_Maybe one hit wouldn’t hurt._

Angel took the bill and did the line quickly, pushing down the heartbreak that suddenly flooded his system. But maybe Val was right. Maybe he did need to try something to make him feel better. Or at least a different thing to hold onto besides Henry. What could these memories really do for him anyway? Just give him emotional whiplash and make his after-life harder.

The rush of the high forced his shoulders to relax as he looked back to Valentino with a half blissed expression. A dark hand reached out across the table, nails scratching through Angel’s hair comfortingly.

"See, darlin’? No one’s gonna take care of you like I can,” The tendrils of Valentino’s red smoke caressed Angel’s face, tilting his chin up further while the physical claws went from pink hair to slide a strap off of his shoulder, “Now, why don’t you come here, right where you belong.”

Angel nodded, walking around the desk. Even as the drugs coursed through his system, he still knew his part. He hated being submissive to his boss but he knew better than to try to assert himself now. Valentino settled back into his chair, legs spread enough for Angel to kneel between them. The pink demon sunk to his knees, faintly hearing the seams of his red dress pop.

“A’ course, Val,” Angel purred. His hands found their way to the button of the overlord’s pants. He let his mind drift to Husk, hoping that would make it better this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian Translations:  
> [Just steer clear of the fairies and touching the drugs, got that? And listen, if you do good here, I might be able to talk to the others, get you on a better detail, get you a little more work. IF you prove you can earn it. Understood?]
> 
> [Don’t disappoint me.]
> 
> [Yes sir. I won’t.]
> 
> [So my game should wrap around midnight. I can swing by after and we can go get drinks up at the Cotton Club or somethin’.]
> 
> [The last show’s at 2:30 and then I gotta run numbers after that. Don’t want to keep you up too late.]
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. The Italian mafia ran majority of the gay clubs in New York from Prohibition up through the Stonewall Riots. The Genovese Crime Family, which is the crime family we have chosen for the Scavos and Henry to be a part of, even owned the Stonewall Inn. These clubs acted as drop points for drug operations, getting directly to buyers in the same way that the mob provided booze during prohibition. 
> 
> 2\. The 181 Club was a very real place and was located at 181 Second Avenue in the village. Today it's a movie theater. It was often seen as the "gay copacabana" and received patrons from all over the world, both gay and straight. The cocktail waitresses all wore tuxedos and patrons could pay $5 to have their photo taken with drag queens and kings. Very few of these photos survive today simply because members of the queer community wanted no record of their existence. 
> 
> 3\. Stephen Franse was the owner of the 181 Club and was a very real person. He owned several other gay clubs in the 1930s and 1940s. A couple of these clubs will be mentioned by name later in this fic. 
> 
> 4\. Anthony is currently helping the mob profit skim from the club. He is also dealing drugs. 
> 
> Where to find us:  
> Rainbowpandas  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rockyrants:  
> Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes


	6. Old Fashioned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Husk deals with some memories that bring out bitter pain and sweet realizations. Nothing that a shot of whisky won't cure...or will it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT AND DEROGATORY LANGUAGE ***
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia.
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

“I’m tellin’ ya, Alastor has a tail. A teeny, fluffy little thing. I’ve only seen it once cuz he hides it so fuckin’ well, but it’s there.” Husk gave a wry smirk and listened to Angel’s giggle turn into a full blown laugh. There was something musical about it, his laugh. The cat felt a very small bit of pride well up in his chest from making the spider smile like that. 

They were back on that balcony, Husk sitting on a bench against the wall and Angel standing against the iron rungs of the terrace. The older demon had made sandwiches, offering one to Angel before he had to head out to work with some clients. He had noticed the spider hadn’t been eating much recently, specifically after one particularly rough day; Angel had come back from work high off his ass, looking drained as all hell. He had gotten in a lot of trouble with Charlie and avoided Husk entirely, but the next day acted like everything was fine. 

Husk didn’t ask. He didn’t really have to. But he figured he could at least give the kid some food and a place to forget the hard shit for a bit.

“I dunno, Husky. I think that’s one I hafta see ta believe.” Angel took a drag from his cigarette, one of the red ones he got from Val. Husk didn’t like the look of them but he never commented. Angel was a big boy who could take care of himself. Husk making the spider a sandwich wasn’t the same as calling him out on his vice of choice. It wasn’t Husk’s place to do that and he wasn’t a narc. The porn star exhaled with a chuckle, “Val has a thing for lights. He likes lamps and shit. Gives a whole new meanin’ ta flesh _light_ if ya catch my drift.”

“Ha! No shit?”

“No shit. Why d’ya think he keeps goin’ back ta Vox? Ain’t just for his money. S’a literal moth to a flame!” Angel giggled again, enjoying the light gossip and laughter that time with Husk brought him. “There was this one time he had me do a whole shoot in bondage with twinkle lights and he kept getting so distracted that he didn’t even get mad when I…”

Angel trailed off, the joy falling a bit from his face. Husk could see something going on behind his eyes, a dark moment of remembrance. He’d seen that look many times over the past several months, but the more he and Angel had been around each other the less the spider tried to brush it off and hide it behind a phony smile. Or maybe Husk had gotten better at seeing past that phony smile? Either way, they were getting used to each other and the cat could see that Angel was thinking about something that hurt.

He hated it.

That expression always made Husk’s stomach twist uncomfortably. It was the same feeling he’d gotten that day that Angel had come home after being stood up. Or when he rushed past the bar straight to his room. The kid didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of the shit that he went through.

“You okay, Legs?” Husk asked softly, trying to sound casual. Angel blinked, straightening his posture to feign confidence.

“A’ course I am,” He took a deep drag from the cigarette, stubbing out the end on the metal railing with more force than was necessary. He really was shit at hiding his hatred for his boss. Husk watched as Angel drew his arms to his chest, “Anyway, it was the last time Val ever had me do a shoot like that. ‘Course the next month he had me doin’ some weird fuckin’ film in a lighting store called ‘Blow My Bulb’,” Angel laughed again, “He’s predictable sometimes.”

“Seems it,” Husk said, a small smile coming back to his own face. It was strange how the spider could keep cycling through so many masks. The ones for clients, the one for Val, the one for the screen, fuck, even the one he used for Charlie. Suddenly Husk was hit by a small pang of hope. A hope that, just maybe, Angel was truly sharing his real self with him….not just wearing another mask.

Husk found himself wanting to see Angel smile more; those genuine smiles. He deserved that much. He deserved… so much more than Husk could ever think to give him.

Ugh. Nah, fuck that train of thought. He just didn’t want the kid to get hurt. That’s all. He liked him well enough and that was fine. Didn’t need to be more complicated than that. Shouldn’t be more complicated than that. Husk looked down at the plate of food, picking it up and holding it out to Angel.

“You...uh...want the rest of mine? I can’t finish all this and you’re a goddamn bottomless pit when it comes to food so...” 

Angel’s weak smile turned into a genuine grin. He couldn’t help it. Husker was just...adorable. Especially when he was trying to hide that he gave a shit.

“Y’know, ya really are too sweet ta me.” the spider took a piece of half-eaten sandwich from the plate, his voice shifting to a low purr when he got closer “I’m gonna have ta return the favor some day, if ya eva give me the chance.” Angel gave a wink before popping the bite of bread and turkey into his mouth.

Husk felt heat rush to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Angel had flirted with the old man hundreds of times over the past several months. Most of the time he was way more crass than that; but Husk had never given a single shit about the graphic language before. Yet, for whatever reason, this was the pickup line that Husk couldn’t stop himself from blushing at. Fuck.

“You _know_ I said I ain’t gonna fool around with you. I don’t want none of that shit.” the cat cast his eyes to the side, hoping that Angel couldn’t tell he was affected by the flirtation.

Angel swallowed his food and burst out in a cackle, “Ha! I meant make ya some food, ya dumbass! Though, the offer of my open bed is still...on the table.” the porn star put his hands on his hips and straightened his bowtie. “Honestly, methinks ya protest too much, Husky. Seems like ya might not hate me so much after all~”

“Shut up. You’re just a fuckin’ twig and y’need to eat more than a toaster waffle, a box of candy and a handful of percocets.” the cat demon’s long brows furrowed as he shot a glare up at Angel.

The spider scoffed and began to retort when his phone buzzed, screen lighting up purple. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Of fuckin’ course,” He grumbled to himself. Reading over the message quickly, Angel Dust’s face fell , “Shit. I gotta go,” He smoothed his jacket out and started walking to the door.

“Hey, wait.” Husk stood and took a step to start following Angel but caught himself. What the fuck was he doing? The spider turned and quirked a brow. Husk scrambled to think of something to say. In a last ditch effort to save face, he gestured to the plate with half a sandwich still on it, “Sure you don’t want the rest a’ this?”

Angel’s smile was gentle but slightly sad, “Nah, I’m already runnin’ late. But thanks, handsome.”

Husk stayed standing as the pink demon walked to the door, heading back down towards the elevators that led into the hotel. He wished he’d asked Angel to stay.

_New York City November 1934_

_“Lookin’ forward to it. Thanks, handsome,” the blonde woman pulled away from a half hug, looking up at Henry with a smile. He noticed the way that she turned her nose up as she passed Anthony. What the fuck was her problem?_

_This was why he didn’t like staying with one specific gal for too long. Henry could never figure out exactly what was going on in their heads. Not to mention they were often petty about stupid shit for no reason._

_“That’s ya flavor of the week then?” Anthony asked, crossing his arms. Henry smirked at his friend. He had always assumed that Anthony was in some way jealous, though he wasn’t sure why. Henry had no doubt in his mind that his friend could get any girl he wanted if he actually tried. He was plenty good looking with his blonde hair and bright eyes. Not to mention the guy could talk himself into or out of nearly any situation. But Anthony was always married to his work; too busy to actually flirt with anyone._

_“What? She’s nice,” Henry motioned for his friend to come in. Anthony followed him inside, trailing as the brunette headed up the stairs._

_“Do ya even remember her name?” Anthony followed Henry into his bedroom. He went to the closet immediately, brain flipping through the names of the women he had been dating; knowing he was a little too quiet for a little too long._

_“It’s Ruth,” Henry thumbed through his suits. One of the many perks of working for The Family was being able to afford nice clothes. He spent too many years of his childhood with holes in his socks to take that sort of shit for granted. The brunette watched out of the corner of his eye as Anthony hung up his suit jacket on the coat rack, avoiding putting his hat on the bed._

_“No, Ruth was the upper east side chick you were seein’ in July,” Anthony walked over to the window and threw it open, “Jesus, it stinks in here.”_

_“What? You jealous?” Henry laughed, pulling his undershirt off. He still racked his brain for that woman’s name. Serves him right for having a thing for blondes, “...It’s Irene.”_

_“Irene was March. Try again,” Anthony said dryly. Henry glanced over his shoulder and watched as his best friend grabbed a stack of playing cards, sitting on the floor. Nimble fingers shuffled the deck while he leaned against the nightstand._

_“Shit…” Henry stared at the ground, blinking for a moment. He snapped and pointed at Anthony, “Adelaide. It’s Adelaide. I’m sure of it,” Henry grabbed his navy suit out from the closet and laid it on the bed, smoothing it down. He nudged Anthony’s foot slightly, trying to get his attention, frowning when the other man didn’t look up, “Your pops invited me to the game down by the 181. You coming?”_

_“No. I gotta work.”_

_“Mind if I walk with ya then? Grab some food on the way?”_

_“Yeah, that’s fine,” Anthony said with a shrug. Henry’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched his friend. He knew the man didn’t like the girls he usually hung around with, but something else was off. Ever since Anthony threw himself into his work back in August he’d been acting strange. Even if Tony didn’t say anything, Henry knew him well enough to know when he was hiding something._

_“I gotta take a shower first, can ya wait?” When Anthony didn’t look up or answer, Henry threw his undershirt at him. When his friend got caught up in his own mind it was like talking to a brick wall._

_“Hey!” The blonde looked up at Henry with a glare and a bright blush._

_“I said, can ya wait for me to take a shower before we go?”_

_Anthony immediately turned his attention back to the cards, waving his friend off, “Yeah. Go shower, ya fuckin’ reek anyways.”_

_Henry shook his head and let out a small laugh. Leave it to Anthony to mention something like that. That kid was as blunt as ever._ _  
_ _  
_

* * *

_“Okay,” Henry said shoulder bumping Anthony, “What’s your fuckin’ problem today?” They’d been walking in silence for longer than Henry would have liked._

_“Dunno what ya mean.”_

_“Bullshit, you’ve been in a pissy mood since you saw Anna-”_

_“Adelaide.”_

_“Since you saw Adelaide leavin’ my house. What gives? I can’t fix shit if I don’t know what I did wrong in the first place,” He looked over at his friend, concern written on his face. Tony didn’t even look at him. Henry felt his heart tug in a strange way._

_“Just… I think ya can do better,” Anthony said with a shrug, “Ya gotta find someone that ya ain’t gonna just dump after a few weeks of fuckin’em. People are gonna think you’re a fuckin’ hooker with how quickly you got broads moving through that place.”_

_Henry laughed and shook his head. He knew that wasn’t the truth. After knowing each other for so long, he could tell when the blonde was bullshitting him or deflecting._

_“Well, maybe if you weren't so married to work you'd learn why it's more fun to keep the phone book open," Henry teased. He caught the dirty look his friend shot him and held his hands up defensively, "Okay, okay. Thank you for caring so deeply about my honor and shit. Really, it helps,” he followed Anthony down the alley to the back door of the 181. A woman in a purple sequin gown was leaning against the brick, cigarette tucked between her lips. Henry looked at his watch, "Allora, la mia partita dovrebbe finire intorno a mezzanotte. Posso passare più tardi e possiamo andare a prenderci da bere al Cotton Club o qualcosa del genere."_

_Henry had managed to pick up Italian years ago. He knew he would never formally be on the inside when it came to The Family, but at least he could communicate with the best of them. It made them trust him more knowing he could keep their secrets even in another language. Anthony would quiz him when they still managed to spend time at their safe house._

_"L'ultimo spettacolo è alle 2:30, e dopo quello devo bilanciare i conti. Non voglio tenerti in piedi troppo a lungo."Anthony looked him straight in the eye. He was lying. Henry knew he was lying...but he couldn’t figure out exactly what he was lying about._

_He knew that Anthony had to run numbers, he always did. It was his job and he was a great earner because of it. But there was something else there that he couldn’t pick out. Was he running extra work for his dad? Meeting some dame without telling Henry? Was he tiptoeing into Nico’s side of the business? Henry just couldn’t tell. And that alone ate away at his mind._

_The brunette shrugged._

_“Alright, I’ll see ya tomorrow then,” He said patting Anthony on the shoulder. He gave a tip of his hat to the woman in the purple sequin dress as he rounded the corner. It wasn’t the first time Anthony had passed up a night of drinking in favor of work. Henry knew how badly his friend wanted to prove himself. But he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in the back of his mind._

* * *

_Henry flipped over his cards and reached forward to rake the chips in towards himself as another round of groans erupted from the table. Playing with some of Enrico Scavo’s senior associates was slowly becoming too easy. Didn’t make it any less entertaining though._

_“You’ve been pickin’ our pockets clean since you were a kid! It never fucking ends with you, does it?” One of the men at the table asked rubbing his temple as Henry raked in his chips._

_“A regular fucking husker over here takin’ all our green…” Another man added under his breath, shaking his head as he ponied up more cash onto the table, exchanging it for the little disks._

_“Maybe if you stopped bettin’ like idiots it_ **_would_ ** _end,” Henry offered with a shit eating grin as he sorted his chips._

_Years of monitoring games had taught Henry Casey more than just fancy card tricks and sleight of hand. He knew the odds now, both of the house and of the player. Henry could also run the odds of him getting caught counting cards. At that table, he’d get away with it easily; the men sitting with him couldn’t count five chickens if they were standing in row. But he knew better than to cheat during Enrico Scavo’s personal game night, no matter how the odds would have turned in his favor. Henry knew playing and cheating were both about knowing when to take a risk and when to play it safe._

_He was in the middle of counting out his chips when he heard footsteps approaching the table. The telltale scraping of wooden chair legs on the floor filled the room as people stood. He looked up, seeing Enrico standing over him. The man had clawed his way to the position of Capo a few years ago and —as much as the young man fucking hated it— was now Henry’s boss._

_Henry always loathed having to give the old man the respect that came with his position. He knew what went on outside of business and had seen too many bruises on Anthony’s arms and face over the years to think highly of Ricky Scavo. But he knew better than to speak out when it came to matters regarding The Family._

_He finally stood with the rest of the table, giving a nod to Ricky._

_“Mr. Scavo,” He said, holding eye contact with him. He refused to bow his head like a submissive bitch for this guy. Despite his station, Henry still found ways to stand up to the man who put Anthony through so many rough days; turns out not much had changed since he was ten. Ricky looked him over before motioning for the young man to follow him._

_“Need ta talk ta you,” He turned on his heel and began walking towards the backroom. Some asshole at the table had the audacity to ‘oooh’ as if they were five year olds getting in trouble. Henry smacked him upside the head as he followed Enrico to the back room._

_“Shut the door,” Ricky said sternly, walking around the back of the desk. He sat down and scrubbed a hand over his chin, regarding Henry carefully._

_Henry had learned a lot in his five years with the mob. He’d learned how to fight and how to speak, who to talk to and who to avoid. More importantly, he learned to show up when he was asked for. When a couple of underbosses wanted you at a game downtown, you showed up. And when your capo wanted a meeting, you waited until you were spoken to. Henry stood in front of the man’s desk, hands folded behind his back patiently, the sound of the poker games muffled by the closed door._

_“You watched a game for Lansky last week,” Enrico broke the silence. It was a statement more than a question. Ricky knew the movement of all of his foot soldiers, even the ones like Henry._

_“Yes, sir,” The young man nodded. Enrico nodded, too, as if he was still processing the information._

_“The Jew treat you okay?”_

_“Yes, Mr. Lansky was very pleasant to work with.”_

_“Good, good…”_

_“Enrico-” Henry caught the stern look that Ricky gave him. He would call the Capo by his first name when he was over at the Scavos, but this was business. He cleared his throat, “Mr.Scavo, sir, can I ask what I’m doin’ here?”_

_“Lanksy would like me to promote you, Lucky and Vito both agreed,” He said after another long pause. It was clear that it was difficult for Enrico to get the words out, hand clenching and unclenching sporadically on the desk. Henry was convinced that the man never forgave him for kicking Nico’s ass when they were children. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep a shit eating grin from forming across his face, “We’re gonna put you on the weekly craps game up in Harlem as stick man and then I also want you to check in calling the track we got in Virginia and run the numbers for summa the suckers up here.”_

_Henry blinked at the man for a moment. He’d spent the last few years being an extra set of eyes on the floor; not specifically calling games but making sure no one was doing anything stupid. But being put up to be a stick man, that was a whole new set of responsibilities. Responsibilities, he could tell, Enrico was very reluctant to give him._

_“You got anythin’ ta say?” Enrico asked impatiently. Henry gave Ricky a cheshire grin and a small, sarcastic nod of his head._

_“Thank you, Mr. Scavo. I won’t disappoint you.”_

_“Good, get out,” Ricky gave a wave of his hand and Henry did his best to not punch his fist in the air in celebration. A promotion was one thing, but watching Ricky Scavo struggle to give it to him was the icing on the cake._

_He couldn’t wait to tell Anthony._

_And just like that, any joy he felt seemed to be sucked out of the moment. He knew he was half the earner that Anthony was at the club. Fuck, he wasn’t even Italian. There was no chance of him getting made. The most he could hope to achieve would be becoming some sort of advisor to a made guy. There wasn’t nearly as much on the line for him as there was for Tony._

_The smile faded from his face as he thought of his friend. Anthony should have been there. He should be the one getting some sort of promotion; getting out of that fucking club. But he knew Enrico better than that._

_“Ay! Husker! Still alive,” One of the men at the table laughed, puffing on a cigar as he leaned back in his chair. Henry wrinkled his nose at the new nickname and shook his head._

_“Yeah, alive, kickin’, and ready to take more of your money,” He slid right back into his chair and threw a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Are you gonna give me my cards or what?”_

Husk blinked at the railing of the balcony. He let out a huff of a breath, sitting back down; resting his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands, he furrowed his eyebrows in thought as Anthony’s face flashed in his mind. 

Why did this shit keep coming back to him? Even if the memories were good, they still hurt. There was always a pang of grief or sadness that seemed to settle in his heart at the mere thought of the other man. He didn’t even know what had happened to him. Just that something _did_ happen.

Fuck, he needed a drink.

* * *

Husk’s ear twitched with every fourth tick of the clock, it felt like. He kept looking at the door every other minute or so, hoping to see it open sooner rather than later.

Angel still wasn’t back from work. Not that he had given Husk a time when he would be back. His mind had wandered to worst case scenarios, mentally running through routes to get to the studio if something were to happen. Husker had shaken himself from those thoughts each time they reared their ugly fucking heads. He wasn’t the damn spider’s keeper.

Angel was plenty capable of handling himself. He wasn’t a baby. Husker had seen the kid with a bat and knew that he wasn’t some shrinking violet who needed someone to stick up for him. Angel Dust could scrap with the best of them and rob em blind at the same time. If the spider wanted help, he would ask for it. At least that’s what Husk told himself. 

He didn’t need to waste his time thinking about that prissy pink spider. They were friends, Husk was comfortable with calling them that. But he didn’t need to spend additional time letting Angel run around his brain.

Still, that day that Angel had avoided him weighed on his mind. He’d seen Angel coming back looking worse off, but that was besides the point. And that had been before the two found themselves talking with each other more. Before he had gotten to know Angel as well as he did.

And he did know Angel pretty well by this point. Or at least...he thought he did.

“Husk!” Niffty popped up, her little hands resting on the bar top as she bounced on the seat.

“Fuck!” Husk nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning. It bobbled in the air before he grabbed it properly, “Niffty, what have I told ya about sneakin’ up on me?!”

“I said your name four times,” She said with a shrug, zipping up to the bartop to sit, legs dangling over the edge, “And you’ve been cleaning that glass for two hours now.”

“What? No I haven’t.”

Niffty pointed to the clock. Sure enough, he’d been standing there mindlessly cleaning the same glass for two consecutive hours. Husk set it down, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Shit,” He groaned.

“Do you wanna talk about it? Is it gossip? Did Al make you kill someone with your bare hands again? Is it feelings?” Niffty seemed almost too excited at trying to get to the bottom of what was on Husk’s mind. Granted, she was always like this. Hyper and blunt but fairly well intentioned.

“Pffft! Feelings? Kid, you know I left those at the fuckin’ door ages ago.” The cat took a deep swig from his bottle in hopes that he could brace himself for the onslaught of probing questions he knew were bound to come.

“That’s not true. If you didn’t have feelings then you wouldn’t have a crush on Angel.” Husk choked on his drink, the direct words hitting him like an arrow through his chest. He coughed to try to keep himself from blacking out. “Oh goodness! Husk, are you okay?”

“I...don’t...have a _crush_...on that bitch-ass spider...” Husk panted between the words, catching his breath. Niffty had said some out-there shit to him in the past. One time she even asked him if he licked his own ass to clean himself. But this almost took the cake.

“You don’t? Then why are you so nice to him? Why do you always get less angry when he’s around? Why do you always stare at his butt when he leaves the hotel? Hmmmmm?”

“Niffty! I don’t- I’m not-” Fuck. No. He couldn’t be. “I just want to make sure he’s safe. He gets treated like shit by almost every single demon in this literal hell-hole. He deserves to know that someone has his back.”

“Husk, you’re lying. I’m amazing at romance. I’ve written about it sooooo many times. It’s my best skill besides cleaning!” Niffty smiled wide, flashing feral for half a second before returning to genuine and sweet. “And I’ve known you for years. I can tell when you don’t hate someone.”

“Bullshi-”

“I can also tell when you’re worried and you care.” Niffty gave the cat demon a knowing once-over. He felt a part of his wall begin to crack under her sharp pupil.

“I just want him to be safe. I don’t...I’ve never wanted him like that. I’ve never thought of him like that.”

“Are you sure? It sounds to me like you’re ignoring your feelings, not that they aren”t there. Especially with Angel. I mean, haven’t you ever felt that way about someone before?”

Husk sat in his chair at the bar. He took a swig of booze and then stared at his paws, thinking about every infuriating, confusing and beautiful feeling that Angel Dust seemed to toss into his brain.

There was no denying that the spider was attractive. Husk wasn’t blind or stupid. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could see that Angel Dust knew exactly what he was working with. But Husk didn’t want to _be_ like everyone else. He didn’t want Angel to ever see him as someone who was only interested in him for his body.

Angel had so much more to offer. He had a sharp wit to match that sharp smile of his. He was funny, Husk couldn’t remember how long it had been since he laughed so genuinely with anyone. And he cared… God, Angel Dust seemed to care so fucking much when it mattered. 

Every little leap of his heart, every blush, every moment of happiness from the spider’s smile flashed through Husk’s mind as he sat there thinking. Sifting through the emotions was hard. But strangely enough, it was familiar. 

He _had_ felt this way before. The only question was….when.

_March 1935_

_The Cotton Club was bustling, ladies and gents from all around the city making the most of one of the hubs of New York nightlife. Henry stubbed out his third cigarette of the hour, crushing it in the ashtray at the middle of the table. He settled back in his chair as he watched the other men and women dance to the loud jazz music. Even as the horns and drums pounded in his ears, his mind trailed elsewhere._

_He’d asked Anthony to join them earlier that night; but as per usual, he was throwing himself into work at the 181. Henry didn’t want to think that his best friend was avoiding him, but it was hard to deny that’s what it seemed like._

_They still saw each other frequently. But every time the weekend rolled around, Anthony would seemingly disappear off the face of the earth until Sunday evenings. They never got to do anything like they used to. No shenanigans, no crazy schemes, hell Henry couldn’t even remember the last time that he or Anthony had gotten picked up by the cops. But he supposed that’s what happened when you had actual jobs to do._

_"Heyyo, Husker!” One of the fellow mob guys called out, approaching the table. Henry hated that that had become his nickname. The associate drummed his fingers on the table, “You’re smoking those things like they’re going out of style. Can’t find a broad you like?”_

_“Hm?” Henry looked up as he lit another cigarette._

_“Get your shit together man, it’s a party!” the man laughed._

_“Really? And here I thought we were meeting the fuckin’ King of England,” Henry snorted as he exhaled. He shook his head, “Just not in the mood to dance.”_

_His reply was dry. It was always harder to shoot the shit with these guys without Anthony around. Plus he always got a kick out of watching Anthony try to lead on the dance floor. That boy got pulled around like a ragdoll by women more than anything else and it always made Henry laugh._

_“Listen, we’re about to make tracks. Get some company on the bosses dime. C’mon and join us. Some tail would do ya good!”_

_Henry thought for a second as he puffed on his cigarette. He had nothing better to do. Might as well get a dame to help take the edge off of….whatever this weird feeling was._

* * *

_The door opened and shut quickly as a blonde woman lightly pushed Henry into the hotel room. He shucked his overcoat, tossing it to some forgotten corner of the room before leaning down to kiss her neck._

_It wasn’t that Henry needed to get a hooker for a night of fun. Hell, he had plenty of girls in the neighborhood he could choose from. But he wasn’t paying and the distraction was welcome. He needed to think about something other than Anthony tonight._

_The woman walked him back towards the bed, pushing with one hand until Henry’s knees collided with the edge of the mattress, forcing him to sit. She peeled off her dress before climbing onto his lap, her hands immediately going to unbutton his shirt._

_“You know, didn’t think I’d get so lucky with such a handsome guy,” She cooed, nipping at his lip. Henry let out a small breath of laughter as the woman kissed him again. He tried to keep himself present, hands on her hips as she ground down in his lap, pushing his shirt from his shoulders before undoing her bra. He felt their naked flesh press together, trying to focus on the warmth of her body heat._

_But his mind was wandering elsewhere._

_Anthony was still working at that 181 Club a few blocks away. Henry hadn’t ever gone inside the place; you couldn’t pay him to set foot in some fag club, even if it was for the amount of money that Tony was raking in. Still, his mind roamed; worried. He’d heard plenty about the kind of people who went to those places. They were drugged out and dangerous._

_Henry wasn’t blind. Anthony was handsome, a sharp smile and freckles that looked like constellations. He could shoot a gun just fine, but Henry worried about him in a physical scrap. The thought of someone laying a hand on Anthony, taking advantage of him or otherwise, turned his stomach. He wouldn’t put it past Enrico to put Tony in a situation he wasn’t ready for, no matter how much the young man tried to prove himself._

_Just one bad day and-_

_“Alright, where’s your head at?” The woman on his lap asked, pulling back from the kiss to rest her arms on his shoulders._

_“What?” Henry blinked back to reality, looking up at her, “Nowhere. It’s nothin’.” He offered her a smile and leaned forward to kiss her. She pulled back, giving him a smirk and a head shake._

_“You got a pretty gal on your lap with her tits out and you’re not even a little hard,” She pointed out. Henry swallowed nervously._

_“Sorry… just… distracted,” He looked back down, chewing at the inside of his cheek. The woman sighed and took his hands, placing them on her chest before looking down at him with a raised eyebrow when nothing happened._

_“No kiddin’,” She said lightly, “So, you wanna tell me ‘bout her?” She asked, sliding from his lap. The woman walked over to his overcoat, pulling out his cigarette case._

_"There is no ‘her’,” Henry said rubbing the back of his neck. His mind was still trailing to Anthony. The young man would be eighteen that summer, but that didn’t mean he was invincible. The woman lit the cigarette, eyebrows raised as she regarded Henry._

_“Didn’t pin you as one of those guys.”_

_“What?” Henry looked at her before her meaning clicked, “No, no, I’m not- I ain’t a queer,” He said shaking his head, “It’s… I’m worried ‘bout someone. That’s all.”_

_“Mhm,” She took another drag, blowing it out before walking around to the opposite side of the bed, laying out on it, “You wanna tell me about him anyway?” Henry gave her a stern look that caused her to laugh, “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m already paid for, might as well make the conversation interesting. ‘Sides, who the hell am I gonna tell? I’m not too interested in tryin’ to rat ya out. You seem sweet.”_

_Henry gave a half smile. He huffed out a breath and laid out along the other side of the bed. He had no reason to not believe this woman. And even if she did fuck him over and let something slip, she was just a whore and Henry had men who would vouch for him. His word would trump her’s if it came to it._

_“It’s… It’s my friend. My… My best friend really. I’m worried ‘bout him. He’s been workin’ at a club for a while now and he’s just been- Somethin’s up. He won’t tell me what. But every time we hang out it feels like he’s hidin’ somethin’ from me.”_

_“What color are his eyes?”_

_“Wha-what the shit does that have to do with fuck all I just said?”_

_“Answer the question, hun.” The woman gave a charming smile and giggled. She seemed to know how to break down a stubborn man’s walls. It was her job, in a way._

_Henry rolled his eyes but acquiesced, looking up at the ceiling as he pictured Tony’s face. “Brown. Like a warm, dark cognac brown.”_

_“Hmmmm…” the prostitute hummed knowingly._

_"What?”_

_“Not many men can easily recall their buddies' eye-colors down to the type of brown. That part of the mind is usually reserved for lovers….or at least someone very special.”_

_Henry sat up in the bed more, looking at the woman incredulously. He shook his head, letting out a bark of a laugh._

_“No. No I’m not- He’s- It’s not like that,” He fumbled over his words as he felt his face heat up, “I’m just worried about his safety. I already told you, I’m not a queer.”_

_“I never said you were. Maybe you are just for him. I’ve met a lot of people in my line of work...maybe you just fell for his heart.”_

_Henry stared at the bed spread and took a second to think. He thought about the way Anthony’s eyes crinkled when he was trying to get away with a mischievous plan. The way he’d hum showtunes under his breath when he was working on something. The way he’d bite his lip when he was thinking too hard. His smile…_

_Fuck._

_The realization hit Henry like a train, a slew of emotions washing over him. Disgust, joy, fear, confusion to how or when it even happened. He felt like the air had been punched from his lungs...maybe he did see Anthony like that. Just a little bit._

_Henry pushed himself up from the bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor. He did up the buttons quickly, not looking at the prostitute as he put himself back together._

_“Room’s paid through the night, you’re welcome to stay.”_

_"Where are you going?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. He shook his head._

_“I need a drink,” He grabbed his coat off the floor and left the room quickly. If a dame couldn’t scrub Anthony from his mind, maybe a stiff drink would._

Husk closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was an idiot. Of course Anthony had been more than a friend to him. Of course he had felt this way before. That strange feeling of grief crept up his spine the more he lingered on thoughts of the blonde man from his past. Husk grabbed his bottle of booze and plucked the cork out with practiced ease, tossing back a few large gulps.

He thought momentarily about Angel. The lanky demon seemed to be running around in his mind in the same manner. He was worried about Angel’s safety, of course he was, but there was something else there.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Niffty said with a smile, “You should talk to Angel. Maybe he feels the same way. He _is_ always flirting with you.”

“Yeah,” Husk laughed, “And maybe this redemption scheme will really work out and we’ll all sprout fuckin’ halos and fly outta here.”

“You really think so?”

“No.”

Niffty pouted and then looked Husk right in the face, “Angel makes you happy doesn’t he?”

“Well, yeah. I guess. But-”

“And you have fun with him, don’t you?”

“Sure. But that doesn’t-”

“Aaaaand you think he’s pretty, right?”

“I never said that,” He said pointing at the little cyclops, “I am just… worried about him. That’s all. That’s all it’s gonna ever be. And even if it wasn’t, he deserves someone who isn’t a washed up fuckin’ bartender at a piece of shit hotel,” Husk’s ear twitched as he heard the door creak open. He glanced up quickly, seeing Angel coming into the lobby, looking at his phone, exhaustion all over his face. Husk turned his attention back to Niffty, “Not. A fucking. Word. Now, scoot.” He whispered, the threatening tone in his voice only coming across halfheartedly.

“Fiiiiiiine,” Niffty groaned , “But remember what we talked about,” She whispered too loudly for Husk’s liking before booping him with her feather duster. Husk wrinkled his nose, half glaring at the small demon as she scuttled away.

“Bite-size givin’ ya trouble, Husky?” Angel chuckled, sitting down at the bar. He put his top two elbows on the counter, chin resting atop folded hands. Husk could see the weariness on the pink demon’s face despite his smile and quickly looked away. If he didn’t look at Angel, maybe he could ignore the way his heart tugged irritatingly at the spider’s expression.

“Sorta,” He grumbled, staring at the wood in front of Angel with his own arms crossed, “What d’ya want?'

Husk caught Angel’s hands moving out of the corner of his eye, going from their flirty position down to just resting on the bar top. He looked down further as he did his damnedest to push down those stupid feelings. He wasn’t about to waste Angel’s time with them.

“...You okay, Husky?” Angel’s voice sounded genuinely concerned. Husk looked up finally, catching Angel looking directly at him. Through him. 

Fuck, this spider was going to lead to his second death.

“Yeah,” he allowed a small smile to cross his face, “Just… tired.”

“I hear that,” Angel smiled, “Can I get a shot of whisky then? And… one for you, too. Ya look like you could use it. My treat."

“Sure, Legs,” Husk let out a snort, shaking his head as he poured them both a shot. Angel raised his glass in a half mock toast before tossing back the liquor with a small grimace before smiling sweetly. The cat let out a small huff of a laugh, wishing that the smile didn’t chase away his bitter feelings so easily. He tossed back his shot as well, before placing the shot glass upside down on the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian Translations:  
> 1\. So my game should wrap around midnight. I can swing by after and we can go get drinks up at the Cotton Club or somethin’.
> 
> 2\. The last show’s at 2:30 and then I gotta run numbers after that. Don’t want to keep you up too late.
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. Meyer Lansky was Charles Luciano's best friend and was known as the Mob's Accountant. He controlled majority of the gambling enterprises controlled by the Luciano/Genovese family. He would have outranked Enrico by quite a bit.  
> 2\. At this point in time Vito Genovese was the Underboss of the crime family. He would take over as acting boss for Luciano when the man fled to Italy to avoid a murder charge in 1936.  
> 3\. The Cotton Club was one of New York City's biggest jazz clubs from 1923-1936 in Harlem. It shut down in 1936 due to the race riots that broke out in the neighborhood. The Cotton Club invited major black perfomers while simultaneously preventing black people from entering the club. The Cotton Club opened a secondary location in Midtown in the latter part of 1936, but the club closed for good in 1940. 
> 
> Where to find us:  
> Rocky's Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> Rocky's 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes
> 
> Panda's Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> Panda's 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas


	7. Wings and a Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bad day, Angel breaks down. Husk is there to help turn it around. Until a mistake is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT***
> 
> Special thank you to Hunter for the beautiful art at the end of the chapter! See end notes for her socials!
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia.
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters.

Angel was frustrated. Pissed off. Tired. It had been almost two weeks since that evening in Val’s office where he’d resolved to stop giving a shit about memories and feelings involving Henry. And, for a few days, he really thought he was letting them go. Going back to the decades before where he forgot more than he remembered. He’d found a new focus at work, hit the drugs hard, and even let himself get distracted by the Happy Hotel’s adorable bartender.

But all that changed seven days ago.

It started with blurry, short memories. Him moving on from kissing chorus boys to giving handies and blowjobs. And when that didn’t work to make him forget his best friend, he tried more. But he could never follow through. The most eighteen year old Anthony could handle was a few fingers and maybe the tip of a cock in his ass before he had an emotional break and pushed the guy off of him….because it wasn’t right. Because it wasn’t Henry.

That type of mental, emotional, and physical blueballs was driving Angel up a wall. His teenage self was so unlike who he was now. He genuinely wished he could go back in time and make his way to the mortal world; he’d smack the feelings out of himself just so he could go get fucked by some rando and get over that stupid Irish bastard.

The good news was that this bullshit made it  _ way _ easier for Angel Dust to focus at work and keep Val happy. If he couldn’t get his emotions railed out of him when he was alive, at least he could now. That and a lot of white powder helped suppress all this crap. Not enough to get over it but enough to keep him from completely snapping.

The bad news was these memories and feelings made him pull away. Pull away from Charlie, from Husk, hell, even from Cherri. It was easier to shut them out than admit things were wrong at this point. All they would do is ask questions about shit he didn't want to talk about. Yeah, it was lonely. But it was easier to be dependent on drugs than it was to be dependent on people. Both life AND death had taught him that much.

But this past week had all culminated into a shit day that had Angel Dust about ready to empty his Chicago typewriter into the next fuck who looked at him funny.

He managed to make it through his shoots and clients just fine - minus one shitty random john - despite the hazy memories replaying for the eightieth time. Valentino was happy with him but his possessive, pompous, fuckhead attitude just tap danced on the wrong nerve today. 

Then Angel tried to finally open-up and vent to Cherri about what he was going through, hoping that his best friend could offer some empathy. Instead she told him it was “No biggie.” and that he should “get over it and try to get a better high.” Not only was that the shit he was already trying to do but… she clearly didn’t get it. 

And then Charlie wouldn’t stop complaining about him missing his therapy appointment that day. She kept texting him, trying to encourage him to share more specifics of what he was remembering. Which was the  _ last _ thing he wanted to do. Especially after he felt so snubbed by Cherri. Still, Charlie riding his ass was far from the icing on this shit-cake of a day.

To top it all off, his stash had gotten lifted three goddamn times. Once from that shitty random john who had picked him up on a corner that morning, once from his dressing room while he was filming, and then again, two minutes ago as he was marching home from work. It was like every time he tried to get his hands on something to help, the universe yanked it away from him.

As he continued his way home to the hotel, Angel Dust was seething. Yeah, fucking helped keep a lot of his feelings at bay but the drugs kept the memories from being too clear. And that’s what he needed right now more than anything else. He needed to keep himself from seeing Henry’s eyes. His smile. That scar on his shoulder. Without the pills and powders, it felt like he was always a second away from falling into one of those deep moments of remembrance instead of just fuzzy flashes. And that made the porn star mad. Upset. Scared.

Angel Dust burst through the door of the hotel, fumes of frustration practically spilling off his body. He didn’t stop to even look towards the bar, the walls of the hotel already feeling too confining for the way his brain was sprinting around in circles. Angel marched into the elevator, punching the button for the floor that had balcony access.

Angel needed air. He needed to be alone. He needed… his fucking lighter to work properly for once, goddamnit. Angel let out a growl of frustration, smacking the side of the lighter. It finally lit up a small, weak flame. The spider held it to the cigarette tucked between his lips and sucked down a large lungful of smoke as the doors dinged open. Fuck the Princess’s “no smoking inside the hotel” rule.

Angel blew through the first cigarette quickly, pulling out another. And another. And another. The spider demon didn’t know how long he had been sitting on that bench on the balcony, one leg crossed over the other, bouncing anxiously. But whether it had been twenty minutes or two hours, he didn’t feel much calmer.

If he could get his brain to shut up for two seconds… just a break. Just a small break. It seemed every time he closed his eyes these days he was picturing Henry. He didn’t even know what had happened with the man. But every time he pictured him he could feel his heart crack. 

Angel pressed his back against the wall as he let out another breath of smoke, watching it curl towards the sulfur flecks in the sky. He didn’t want to think about the past any more. Henry wasn’t here. Wanting him to be here was only going to hurt more… it was only going to make after life more difficult. There were better options. Angel stubbed out his cigarette and lit up another mindlessly. 

There was Husk. 

The stupid, old cat made Angel’s heart leap, too. But in a way the spider could handle. Husk was fun and nice, not complicated. And he was right there. He was there and he enjoyed spending time with Angel. At least, the spider thought he did. Husk didn’t push him away much any more. He would even crack a grin whenever Angel flirted with him these days, instead of getting annoyed. Angel smiled at that thought. Maybe Husk wanted him, too. Maybe. 

But then his mind trailed back to Henry and he let out a frustrated groan. 

He wanted it all to stop. He wanted to just be able to spend time with a guy who made him happy and was right in front of him. Not think about the past, about the man who clearly hadn’t wanted him in life. 

Angel looked at the cigarette in his hand as it burned down to stub. He took one last deep drag and crushed it under his heel. As he reached into the carton for another, he was met with nothing but an empty cardboard box. Just his luck.

Angel stood, hucking the carton as hard as he could, watching it careen over the edge of the balcony.

“FUCK!” He screamed, hands tangling his hair as the thoughts swirled and amplified inside his head. Angel sat back on the bench, top hands fisting and pulling at his scalp while the second set wrapped tightly around his body.

“Thought I’d find ya up here.” 

Angel’s head whipped around at the voice. Husk stood there, leaning against the wall. The spider hadn’t even heard the door open. 

“Rough day?” Husk asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“I- uh…” Angel blinked at him before letting his shoulders slump, “Yeah…” 

Husk walked over and sat down next to Angel. It was the closest the two of them had been in a week, but Husk didn’t seem mad about it.

“You been hidin’ up here all fuckin’ week? Haven’t seen you 'round the bar much at all,” Husk leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The cat would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the small break he’d gotten from Angel making his chest squeeze. He’d be lying even more if he said he didn’t miss Angel’s presence every one of those seven days.

“Been busy…” It was a half truth, though the spider felt bad saying it.

“Busy,” Husk nodded, watching the way Angel pursed his lips together, “You’ve been bitin’ your tongue for a goddamn week now. You don’t hafta hold back around me… y’know that right?”

“I know, Husky. It’s just…a lot.” 

“Pfft! You’re actin’ like you ain’t always been a lot, Legs.” Husk gave a small smirk, trying to bring some of their normal dynamic back to the conversation. To show Angel Dust things between them were okay, “Cut the shit. What happened?”

The pink demon sighed. Husk really was a good guy. Maybe Angel could rely on him after all.

“I couldn’t handle goin’ ta therapy with Charlie this morning cuz all she wants ta do is talk about shit that I  _ literally  _ can’t deal wit’ right now. So instead I skipped out ta meet up wit’ a john. He was a shit lay and when I was cleanin’ up he stole my stash from my fuckin’ pocket. Then I had ta go ta work and deal with Val bein’ an ABSOLUTE entitled grape-flavored twat all day, which just hit extra hard after a shit mornin’. But I got more drugs and I filmed and I did my fuckin’ job and y’know what that got me? My drugs bein’ lifted AGAIN! Some shit broke into my dressin’ room and nabbed ‘em. Prolly one of the newbies Val cut off cuz they ain’t fuckin’ behavin’. No one else would have the balls ta break into MY personal dressing room fo’ somethin’ our boss could get them with a snap of his slimy purple fingers!” Angel could feel the floodgates opening, like all his pain and frustration was bubbling to the surface. He stood from the bench and began to pace, gesturing wildly as Husk just watched. 

“So then I went ta text Cherri about my shitty day and she told me it was ‘no biggie’ and that I could get another high somewhere else. Which is so not like her. She’s a bitch but not that kinda bitch. Not ta me! And what sucked more was seein’ all the missed texts from Charlie whinin’ at me about how I didn’t come ta therapy this mornin’ and how I need to face these hard feelin’s and blah blah blah guiltin’ my ass off like I didn’t already feel like shit! So I kiss Val’s ass in hopes that he’ll give me more of the hard stuff ta help, cuz God and Lucifer and everyone knows I fuckin’ need it so I can forget all this awful crap runnin’ through my head. And thank fuckin’ Christ he did and I managed to take a hit because y’know what happened next? Ya wanna know what happened next?! I was walkin’ home from the Studio and some god damned sad excuse for a lemur-dicked fuckwad yanked my drugs right outta my fuckin’ hands. And now I’m tired and pissed and I just wanna forget or fly away from it all or murder the next rando who tries ta so much as bum a cigarette offa me! Except that don’t even fuckin’ mattah, cuz I’m outta those now, too!”

Angel Dust’s chest was heaving, his run on sentences echoing through the night. He turned and flopped back down onto the bench, feeling a little lighter after going off like a bomb. The spider demon took a few deep breaths, not looking directly at Husk for fear of seeing an eye of judgement on the older demon’s face. He saw a bit of movement in his peripheral as Husk sat back, hands moving from his knees to the bench. 

Husk didn’t speak. He didn’t think he needed to. Angel didn’t want someone to tell him what to do or how to feel about everything. He just needed someone to listen. And Husk was more than happy to provide that. He had a lot of practice, after all. The cat sighed.

“That  _ is _ a lot,” He said, shaking his head. Angel huffed a semi-pained laugh, settling more on the bench. His body relaxed just a bit, feeling validated by Husker’s comment.

The two of them looked out over Pentagram City from their perch above it all. Angel liked the quiet moments he could spend with Husk the best. The cat didn’t need him to speak, didn’t need him to perform. In fact, Husk seemed to respond better when Angel wasn’t putting on a front. For the first time all week, Angel Dust felt his mind take a slightly more peaceful turn. 

The spider reached out with one of his hands, gently resting it on top of Husk’s. He gave the cat’s paw a small squeeze. 

“Thank you...for listenin’,” Angel said after another moment of silence.

Husk’s head whipped up. That was twice now that Angel had thanked him. Then he looked down at their hands. Angel’s was still resting atop his own. Husk’s mind ran through what Niffty had told him the week before. He took a deep breath and flipped his paw over, giving Angel’s hand a squeeze in return. He noticed Angel’s mouth twitch into a small smile.

The cat demon followed the spider demon’s line of sight out to the high-rise skyline and then upward. For all the lights of the city, Husker was thankful for the sulfur flecks that shone above. Stars. 

Those stars that wouldn’t be there in the morning. 

Husk stood, still holding onto Angel’s hand. He tugged at it lightly to get him to stand.

“Up,” The cat demon’s request was gruff but lighthearted. Angel arched an eyebrow at him before a smirk crawled across his face. He got to his feet and crossed his arms in light amusement.

“Ya takin’ me somewhere Husky?” He purred out, falling back into his old pattern of teasing. Husk rolled his eyes, but let out a snort of laughter. 

“I can help. Get on my back.” The cat gave a sharp flap of his wings to emphasize his point, hoping Angel would catch his drift.

“Do ya use that line with everyone or am I special?” Angel teased, stepping closer to the other demon. Husk didn’t respond. Instead he turned around and jerked a thumb to his back, signaling for the spider to hop on.

Angel cautiously draped his arms loosely around Husk’s shoulders, pressing his front against the cat’s back. He let out a small laugh. What was this old man even doing? How was a piggy back ride gonna help?

“Y’know, this isn’t  _ exactly  _ how I pictured mountin’ you,” He said smartly, letting his gold tooth flash in a grin.

“You want me to help or not?” Husk shot a glance over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. When he didn’t get a response, he grabbed Angel’s lower set of arms, wrapping them around his waist, “You’re not holding on tight enough.” 

“Yeah I am,” Angel purred with smug pursed lips.. 

“If you say so,” Husk said with a shrug. His wings extended outwards and with one great flap, the cat launched the two of them in the air. Angel let out a scream of surprise, clinging to Husk more tightly than he had before, holding on to the demon for dear afterlife. As they climbed higher and higher into the sky, Angel’s scream devolved into full out laughter. 

He looked down watching the hotel shrink below them and the sulfur-fleck stars seemed close enough to touch. Husk evened out for a moment, flying towards the heart of Pentagram City. Angel sat up more upright, stretching his arms overhead with a triumphant shout of joy, feeling his heart hammer in his chest in the best sort of way. He opened his eyes, taking in the view of the city from high above, glancing up to the clouds. 

Angel reached a hand upwards to glide along the curve of the sky, his smile softening as the wind blew through his hair. For the first time all week he could feel the stress and the anxiety melt away, and he didn’t even need a hit. His vision trailed to Husk as he leaned back down, top arms wrapping back around the demon’s shoulders.

“You get views like this all the time?” He asked loudly, ensuring his voice carried over the rush of the wind. Husker glanced back with a shrug. 

“Sometimes one view is better than others,” Husk said with a laugh, “You actually holdin’ on this time?” 

“Yes~,” Angel said with a bright grin, tightening his lower arms around Husk’s waist. The old cat smirked and took a quick dive, spiraling as they went. Angel let out another bout of unrestrained laughter as Husk banked around a tight corner of a building. 

High above the other sinners and with the sky so close, Angel felt his heart soar. He felt… alive. More alive than he had felt since he died. Angel closed his eyes for a moment, nuzzling his face against Husk’s shoulder as the wind whistled through him, calming any stress in his mind. He gave Husk a small squeeze. 

The cat glanced to his shoulder, only able to make out the top of Angel’s head. He could feel the other demon smiling against his skin. It was so rare that he took flights like this. He usually only flew to get to places more quickly, or to get away from people. But with Angel so close to him and with everything else so far away, Husk had to wonder why he didn’t do this more often. He could feel the warmth of the spider pressed to his back, holding him tightly. Any other night he figured that would have been enough, just to be close to Angel Dust.

But not tonight. 

Husk quickly dove, flipping out from underneath Angel. The pink demon let out a scream as he fell, feeling the heat of Husk’s body pull away. And just when his heart began to give out a bit, he collided with the cat’s arms. Husk snatched him out of the air quickly, one arm hooked underneath his legs while another wrapped around his back tightly. Four hands scrambled to grab onto the cat, Husk letting out that belly laugh of his as he watched Angel’s expression.

“Husk, what the fuck! I thought ya were gonna drop me,” Angel weakly beat a fist against Husk’s chest, fighting down the giggle that bubbled up from his throat. Husk held him a bit more tightly. 

“Just shut up and enjoy the view,” He said, giving a nod forward. Angel bit his lip, looking at Husker’s face. He’d never seen Husk wearing such a serene smile before. It suited him. 

The cat flew higher into the sky and Angel watched in amazement as he made out the map of Pentagram City below. He eagerly pointed out a slightly scorched row of apartment buildings.

“Hey I can see Cherri’s place. Looks way more well toasted from the sky,” He laughed. 

Husk spared a glance at Angel. The tension was gone from the spider’s shoulders, a genuine smile stretched across his face. It was a look that he had come to like on the porn star. That smile without any pretense or mask in front of it. 

Husk blinked, feeling that tingle of affection curl in his chest. But for the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem to irritate him. It felt… right having Angel this close to him, seeing him so happy. Husker may not have been what Angel deserved but he was glad he could help him, at the very least.

Angel looked back at Husk, picking up how the cat immediately looked away from him a moment after catching his gaze. Angel’s smile softened as he held on tighter, resisting every urge to move closer and kiss the other demon’s cheek. 

The spider studied the look on Husk’s face. He was determined. Stubborn. Kind. So much more than the hard exterior he put up. And so very real. All Angel Dust wanted to do was kiss this man. Give himself to him. Let himself get lost in the person right in front of him so he could let go of his stupid, frustrating past. He wanted Husk. And he needed to make a move before he lost his resolve.

“Alright, hold on. I don’t wanna drop you when we land,” Husk said, steering back to the hotel. 

They two demons glided back down to the roof balcony of the Happy Hotel, Husk’s paw pads making a soft sound as they landed on the concrete and tile. He held Angel for a beat, giving a gentle squeeze to Angel’s side and thighs before setting him back on the ground.

Their forms stayed fairly close, neither shifting towards or away from the other. There was a tension between them...one that they were both still trying to figure out.

Angel spoke first, looking down at Husk’s face and realizing the cat was avoiding eye contact. 

“That was...amazing, Husky. I really needed that.” Angel smirked softly. This was his chance. “Maybe I could...return the favor or somethin?"

“Nah, it’s no problem. Just couldn’t stand to see yo-” Husker caught himself before he said too much. “...a friend like that.”

“Just a friend?” Angel stepped towards the cat, feeling the tension between them building. He could tell Husk wanted  _ something _ from him. He hoped he wouldn’t scare the old man away.

“A step above pain in the ass, at least.” the cat glanced up and met Angel’s eyes for a second and then flicked his eyes away again.

“A step, huh?” On that word, the spider inched even closer to the demon in front of him. He hadn’t wanted someone like this in a long, long time. But it wasn’t just based in lust. It felt like a lot more than that. Like his crush was coming to the surface.

Angel was terrified. He was exhilarated. And he was finally feeling like his past wasn’t hanging over his shoulders. It was almost funny that a dumb little crush could make him feel this way.

“Maybe more.” Husk shrugged, trying to keep on an aloof expression and his eyes off of Angel’s face. He couldn’t let himself hope….he could be fine with making the spider smile and not need anything more than that. Besides, Angel was too good for him. He knew that already.

They stood in silence for a moment, Angel studying every one of Husk’s facial features and Husk studying the sky behind Angel’s left shoulder.

Fuck it.

“Do ya wanna kiss me, Husky?” Angel inched another step closer and looked down at the bartender’s eyes. Golden yellow and warm and full of so many feelings the spider couldn’t read. So instead, he continued, “‘Cuz I wanna kiss you.”

Husk’s cheeks twitched into an almost-smile but his brow creased in disbelief. He felt so incredibly torn. 

“I….don’t know…”

“What’s the mattah, ya thinkin’ of someone else?” Angel’s voice was teasing but soft at the edges. He liked Husk but...that’s what made the risk a little bit scarier. And he couldn’t let the cat see that. So Angel put on in his signature smirk and guided Husk’s cheek so they could look each other in the eyes. Another step closer. “It’s okay if ya are…”

And suddenly, Husk realized he wasn’t. He wasn’t thinking of the man he used to know or of the man he used to be. He wasn’t thinking of Anthony at all. Angel was right there, and so close… and he wanted this. Husk looked at the spider and pushed his last thread of a doubt away. 

“I’m not,” Husk closed the gap between them, meeting Angel in a firm kiss.

Their lips met and, almost immediately, two pink arms were wrapped around Husk’s neck, pulling him closer. Claws gripped Angel’s waist and their chests pressed against each other. The kiss deepened, but neither could tell who made it more passionate first. Maybe they both did. 

Lips parted, tongues slid against one another, and teeth nipped at soft flesh. Angel grinned into the kiss, letting out little moans as one of his lower hands threaded through the cat’s chest fur. Husker tried not to make a noise but a low rumble from the back of his ribcage began to get louder. He felt the spider’s smile grow against his mouth, clearly taking notice of the purring. 

God dammit. This bitch wouldn’t have the last laugh if Husk had anything to say about it. The hands on Angel’s waist shifted so that Husk’s arms were wrapped tightly around the spider’s body, squeezing him suddenly; now there wasn’t a single part of their bodies that weren’t flush against each other. Angel Dust whimpered, kissing the bartender even deeper in response. Husk let himself smirk at that, despite feeling his own knees wobble.

As the kissing continued, hands began to roam, a little at a time. Testing the waters. Husker’s nails trailed up Angel’s back and all four of Angel’s hands groped at fur in different spots along Husk’s head, back, wings, and chest. They let the world fade out around them. Even Husk began letting himself get into it as a deep moan fell from his mouth and sent a pang of need straight between the porn star’s legs.

“I want...I wanna-” Angel stopped the kiss to murmur against Husk’s lips, too swept up in the moment to care about rejection.

“My room or yours?” Husker didn’t let Angel finish. The old man’s inhibitions had melted away at this point. He wanted this. Needed this.

The spider was a little surprised at the forward response but grinned, “Mine. Don’t be stupid.”

Pulling Husk behind him by the arm, Angel led them through the balcony’s door and down the stairs. Once they were on flat ground again and had smashed the button for the elevator, Husk stopped to kiss at the spider’s lips and neck. They were like two teenagers, trying to hurriedly make it behind a closed door but unable to keep their hands off each other. Thankfully the elevator ride, though short, gave them time to resume their make-out session. All logic was out the window in favor of giving in to the sensations and pent up longing.

Eventually they stumbled into the spider’s bedroom, Angel giggling and Husk practically grinning. The door slammed shut and, before he knew what was happening, the fur and feathers on the cat’s back were pressed against the wall. The porn star had him pinned and gave a smirk that was both amused and erotic, bringing their faces together in another furious kiss.

More bold in his actions now that they were safe behind a bedroom door, Angel’s hands went lower to grip at the other demon’s ass and rub between his legs.

“Kinda glad ya don’t wear pants.” Angel Dust snickered as he felt Husk’s length hardening against his palm. “I always appreciate easy access.”

“Maybe you should get on my fuckin’ level, sweeheart.” Husk tugged at Angel’s jacket, trying to free his chest fluff from the fabric. The spider melted at the pet-name; Husk calling him sweetheart got him deliciously hot and bothered. Then he giggled and nudged a knee between Husker’s thighs, which allowed Angel to rub against the cat’s hip while also making it easier to stroke his cock.

“Inna minute. I’m doin’ somethin’.”

Husk shivered, still gripping the spider’s lapels, his breath hitching at the expert ministrations. A couple strokes from soft pink hands was all it took to get him erect and ready.

“Ribbed for her pleasure, I see.” Angel purred, a smile still wide on his face.

“Fuckin hilarious.” The older demon rolled his eyes, torn between annoyance and pleasure. “Why do I feel like you’ve been wantin’ to say that for a while?”

Angel bit his lip and gave a coy shrug, continuing to fondle Husk’s dick with two hands. He began jacking him off and leaned in to kiss and nip at the black fur on Husk’s neck, undoing the bowtie quickly with a third hand. Suddenly a claw gently grasped the back of pink hair and guided Angel’s face back up into another kiss.

It was so cute how Husk just kept bringing their lips together; Angel couldn’t help but moan….a real moan. The porn star hadn’t had to let out a fake sound since they started. Fuck, he wanted Husk  _ bad _ .

Almost as if he was reading his mind, the cat gave an impatient huff and pushed their flush bodies off the wall, walking them towards the bed and tossing his hat off his head. Angel grinned, twisting them so he could push Husk onto the bed first. Wings spread out underneath the cat demon as he hit the mattress, eyes looking up at the slim pink figure looming above.

“Not gonna lie, I’ve been wantin’ ta see ya like this for a long time, baby. All hard and hot and breathless. I knew ya’d be cute.” The spider shed his coat and bowtie quickly, then shimmied his skirt and panties down his hips. The combination of Angel’s naked body, hard dick and hearing Angel call him “baby” caused blush to creep onto Husk’s cheeks and ears.

“I ain’t cute. Fuck you.”

“Ohh~ someone’s impatient.” Straddling the cat demon’s lap, Angel grabbed a bottle of lube and squeezed some directly onto the barbed cock waiting for him.

The sudden cold gel on his dick made Husk tense and his brain finally caught up to the present moment, “Uh….don’t you need to prep or somethin’?”

“Pffttt, nah. I worked all day, I’m ready ta fuckin’ go.” Angel snorted as he spread the lube, his movements teasing and practiced. After a moment of thought, his hands slowed, “Why? This too fast? Ya havin’ second thoughts?”

“No,no...I want…” Husk trailed off. He didn’t know how to say it without sounding like every other man who Angel slept with. But instead the spider demon gave a soft smile.

“I want ya too, Husky.”

Angel braced a hand on Husk’s chest as he lined up and slowly guided himself down the length to the hilt. He hissed in pleasure at the fullness, grinding against the cat demon’s pelvis as he adjusted. He looked down at the heavily panting Husk, his pupils blown. Fuck, this was everything Angel had been craving. 

Right off the bat, Angel Dust began to raise and lower himself at a brutal pace. The porn star could tell when something slow was in order or when it was time for a quickie. From the way they’d been all over each other before, Angel had a feeling Husk wanted to cum just as much as he did.

Husker was lost in pleasure. It practically swept him away earlier but now he was teetering on the edge of wanting to go animalistic. He reached forward and grabbed Angel’s hips, nails digging into soft fur and skin, but then caught himself. He...couldn’t do that. Angel deserved better than to be used like that. He loosened his grip and guided Angel to slow his movements, then sat up so his feet were planted more firmly on the ground, his face level with chest fluff. Angel moaned as the angle shifted and arms wrapped around him. Husk buried his face in the spider’s chest, peppering soft bites and kisses around his decolletage.

Surprised at the sudden change in pace, Angel quirked a brow. Everything had been so heated before and now it was...slow. Almost too slow. Like Husk saw him as fragile.

"Ya don't gotta be so gentle, Husky. I ain't gonna break." The pink demon rolled his eyes and ground his hips down again, punctuating it with a chuckle.

Husk looked up into heterochromatic eyes and sighed, "I just...don't wanna hurt you." 

At that, Angel softened a bit. He’d been hurt by so many people in so many ways over his life and after-life. It was laughable that this man that he trusted and wanted and liked thought that he could hurt him in any way he hadn’t been already. Angel pet Husk’s cheek with one hand and tightly gripped his chest hair in another, "You won't."

The reassurance eased Husker’s mind a bit and he nodded, tightening his grip on Angel. This time, when the spider raised himself to thrust back down, strong forearms added power behind it. Angel wrapped his arms around Husk and held on as he was repeatedly slammed back onto that cat’s lap, taking his dick deeper than before. 

Moans and heavy breathing filled the room as they sped up in tandem, swears falling from their lips in between kisses.

"Fuck! Husky, you really  _ do _ know what ya doin, huh?" Angel pulled away from a deep kiss and clenched his muscles as he was rammed down to the hilt. Husk had hit his prostate fairly quickly and kept aiming right for it, making Angel clench his toes in his boots. He was impressed.

"Shut up, I'm-” Husk paused to catch his breath, “-tryin’ to concentrate."

Angel giggled at the cat’s focused expression. His brows were furrowed and his tail was flicking as he glared at the spider demon. "So cute."

"Dammit, Angel! Shut up!" Husker snapped through clenched teeth.

"Oh? Are ya gonna make me or..?"

Husk growled and pulled Angel's head down into another kiss...but this one wasn't feral like the others had been. It was passionate, deep and slow compared to the repetitive pounding of their hips together. Husk couldn't think anymore. It was taking everything in his power not to cum then and there. But he wanted to make sure Angel got there too. If not with him, then before him. The porn star deserved that much at least….to feel good first.

"Husk! Tell...tell me ta cum for ya. Oh, fuck!" Hearing Husk growl and feeling his claws dig into his skin made Angel Dust’s pleasure spike, his peak hurtling towards him.

"...what?"

"Just say it, kitty. I'm close." 

Husk held the back of Angel's head and hugged him closer, so they were temple to temple. His other paw continued to help add power to his thrusts, his wings twitching as blush crept onto his face. The request felt...intimate in a way he didn’t even think Angel would want. But how could he deny him now? He would do almost anything for him at that moment. A purring rumble came from within Husk’s chest, "Angel...cum for me?"

It wasn't a demand, but a question instead. Yet not a beg. Far from begging. It sounded more like a prayer. A request for something special. Still, demand, beg, or prayer, the words hit Angel Dust in the coiling pit of his stomach all the same. 

“Fuck~”

He slammed down onto Husk's lap a final time and tensed, hot release spilling between them as he buried his face into the crook of the cat's neck. Quickly following, Husk groaned and let himself ride through his own peak, deep inside. Claws dug into the spider's skull and hip, the delicious stinging and scent of whisky reminding Angel Dust that it was Husk who was filling him, feeling him, holding him. He felt safe in a way he hadn’t in a very long time; it helped erase the lonely feelings his memories kept forcing into his mind.

Once their aftershocks subsided, Husk fell back onto the bed, fluffing his wings open and allowing Angel to fall on top of him. They chuckled and nuzzled in post-coital bliss for a few minutes until Angel propped up on his elbows and smirked.

“So…”

“So…?” Husk rubbed Angel’s lower back and cocked a brow.

“This a one time thing or you gonna cum in my ass again sometime?”

Husk snorted, “Didja  _ have  _ to fuckin phrase it like that?”

“Nah, but it did make ya laugh.” Angel poked at Husk’s cheek and winked.

Husk shook his head and grinned, moving a paw up to swipe hair out of Angel’s face.

“We’ll see, sweetheart. Depends on if you can get offa me so I can stop crushin’ my tail.” His tone was teasing but he did lightly buck his hips to show that he needed to change position. Angel keened, the motion putting pressure on his overstimulated p-spot.

“More?” the spider bat his eyelashes but was met with a stoic and irritated expression, “Dammit, you’re no fun! Fine. I’ll get offa ya!” He slid off of Husk’s length slowly, trying to keep the mess to a minimum.

Angel rolled over and stood, stretching a bit before examining himself in the mirror. Golden eyes roamed the curves and disheveled pink fur as a smile formed at the corners of Husk’s lips.

“Do you….need help cleanin’ up?”

Angel laughed, turning to look at the cat demon, “Ha! It almost sounds like ya wanna stay over.”

“Maybe I do...you don’t fuckin’ know.” The old man sat up and looked Angel right in the eyes, like he was trying to force himself to be brave enough to say what he wanted.

This time it was Angel’s turn to blush. Husk wanting to fuck him was one thing...but him wanting to stay over? Well, the spider wasn’t gonna take it for granted, that’s for damn sure.

“Will ya?”

“Yeah.”

They cleaned up quickly, and rather quietly despite how vocal they’d both just been. But soon they were both washed, dried and laying in Angel’s big pink bed. Fat Nuggets squeaked over from his corner in the bathroom- where he was trained to go when Angel brought home company- to the bed to join them.

Their cuddling felt a bit awkward at the start, with Husk being unsure where to lay, but Angel made himself comfy by snuggling his head against Husk’s shoulder and the cat felt a little better. A paw lolled up and down Angel’s back, hesitant at first, but then fell into a pleasant rhythm.

“Y’know, I didn’t hear ya say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ at all.” Husk grumbled after a while.

The spider demon giggled, “Mmmm, well ya didn’t put in a request~”

“Ah, I see. Must have slipped my fuckin mind. I’ll remember that for next time.” The cat allowed himself to pull Angel closer. He liked this. He liked Angel. And he wanted a next time.

The words caused Angel’s heart to skip. Maybe...this was a little bit more than a crush after all.

“I’m lookin’ forward to it, Husky.”

Soon both demons were whisked away by exhaustion, each silently glad they had someone to hold them through their nights rest.

_ New York City September 1935 _

_ Henry opened the door to the hideout carefully, listening for any sign of movement in the darkened building. He heard a small sniffle accompanied by the shuffle of feet against the wood floor and felt his shoulders relax for the first time all evening.  _

_ Anthony had been missing for two days. Henry was used to not seeing his best friend on the weekend; it had become such a norm that he hardly thought about it anymore. But when Molly had shown up at Henry’s earlier that Saturday night looking for her brother, all bets were off. Even Enrico had been unsure of where the young man could have been. He was more focused on the routine raid he’d ordered on the club that weekend. Figures. _

_ Henry had hastily pulled a coat over a haphazardly buttoned shirt and had been searching everywhere for his friend ever since. _

_ He’d been blocks away at another bar that the two of them frequented when the thought of the safehouse popped into his head. Henry had sprinted all the way there, his mind running through every scenario it could. He had prepared for the worst. But finding Anthony sitting on the floor was honestly the best outcome he could think of.  _

_ “Fuckin’ hell, there you are,” He said breathlessly, worry laced in his voice. He walked further into the old house. Anthony was sitting against the hallway wall, knees hugged to his chest, staring down at the ground.  _

_ Henry approached him carefully. He could only see so much in the darkness, but he could feel the tension rolling off of Anthony in waves. The brunette took off his coat, setting it over the stair railing as he came closer. It had been so long since the two of them had been in the safe house. It had always been a place where they could hide. Where they were protected. With how busy their lives had gotten, they rarely set foot in the old building. Even Molly stopped coming by in the past couple years or so. _

_ Henry pulled his lighter out and lit a couple of the candles they had sitting on the lid of their barrel table. Electricity was out of the question, but there had been nights they wanted to escape and candle light always worked just fine for them. Henry also knew that Anthony never really liked the dark. Not entirely. He looked down at his friend as the blonde man tried to press himself further into the shadows, wanting to hide. Henry walked around and sat down next to his friend, leaning back against the wall. He sat as close to Tony as he could, shifting away when he saw the man tense up.  _

_ “Molly’s been fuckin’ worried sick about you, and yer dad’s also been looking for yer ass,” He said, looking at the blonde. The silence that fell between them felt wrong. Bad. A quiet Anthony was never a good sign. _

_ “Go away,” Anthony muttered, wiping at his face quickly. Henry looked more closely. Even in the low candle light he could make out tear tracks on his best friend’s face. Usually Anthony was so careful to make sure he looked put together. But now, shirt untucked and jacket long forgotten somewhere, he hardly looked like the man Henry saw on a daily basis. He looked scared. _

_ “Not a chance in hell,” Henry looked away, “What’s goin’ on with you, Tony? You’re workin’ your ass off every weekend and then, suddenly, no one can get ahold of you. Got me runnin’ my ass all over town wor-... Lookin’ for you,” He ran a hand through his hair before looking over at his friend, “Fuck… Ton-... Anthony. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s goin’ on. Talk to me. We could always talk here.” _

_ Anthony lifted his head, wiping his face again. He didn’t look at Henry, shame creeping up his spine just from being so close to the man. But the brunette was right. They could always talk here. He swallowed, taking a shaky breath. _

_ “I was at the 181.” _

_ Henry blinked at him. That didn’t make any sense. _

_ “Your dad had a raid there last night. You were s’posed to be off.”  _

_ Anthony nodded. He thought he could get away with it. A night he wasn’t supposed to be working… a night to just… be. Anthony had forgotten about the raid order. He hadn’t been ready for the cops busting through the front, clearing everyone out. Arresting anyone standing at the bar. _

_ “What were you doin’ there?” Henry asked slowly.  _

_ “I-I was havin’ a drink…” Anthony said after a moment. He was so tired of running. So tired of lying, “And dancin’.” _

_ “Dancin’,” Henry watched his friend closely. Things began falling into place. _

_ “I’ve been… I’ve been makin’ extra money,” He muttered, eyes falling down again, “Roy- the guys at the club… I’ve been dancin’. On stage. I’ve been puttin’ my tips in with my weekly drop. I thought if I could bring in extra money then- then maybe-” _

_ “Maybe your dad would stop draggin’ his feet,” Henry filled in, absorbing the information as he nodded , “Tony you know you don’t gotta do shit like that. Your time’s comin’, I know it is. You already work so hard without… without things like that. You don’t have to mess around with-” _

_ “I like it.”  _

_ Henry paused. Of all the things he expected out of Anthony’s mouth, that wasn’t what he had planned to hear.  _

_ “What?” _

_ “I like it,” Anthony looked at his friend for the first time since he walked in. He could feel his heart caving inwards in his chest. The blonde had imagined the disappointment on Henry’s face so many times before, but, to his surprise, he found none when he looked at the other man. He braced himself for it anyway, “I like the dancin’. I’ve… I like the attention the other men give me… I-” _

_ “Wait,” Henry said, mind catching up to everything Anthony was admitting to him, “You-That shit’s not funny, Tony. If your dad ever thought for a moment that you-” _

_ “I know,” Anthony bit out quickly, kicking himself for sounding so harsh, “I know… I’m not- I’m not tryin’a be funny. Ya think I don’t know that? Ya don’t think I know what would happen if my pops or Nico or… or anyone found out that I- That I’m-” Anthony couldn’t get the words out, fixing his gaze on the floor again. He hadn’t planned on Henry ever finding out about this. About any of this. But of course his friend had to be there. Had to be so eager to listen. He always had been.  _

_ “...Are you?” Henry asked after a long pause, watching his friend carefully.  _

_ Anthony bit the inside of his cheek, nodding as he felt the tears pricking at his eyes and fall again. He sniffed and stared up at the ceiling, avoiding the brunette’s gaze even though he could feel it burning into his skull. _

_ “Are ya gonna tell?” _

_ “No,” Henry said firmly, “No, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ tell.” He wasn’t about to push Anthony away any further than he was. Henry missed his friend. He missed seeing him smile. He missed being close to him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” After all their years of knowing each other, he knew he could tell Anthony anything. And he hoped that the blonde felt the same way in return. If they couldn’t trust anyone else in this world, at least they could trust each other. Or so he thought.  _

_ “I couldn’t. I-” Anthony swallowed, watching his friend, “Henry?” His voice was small, “I… There’s… there’s more.” _

_ Henry let out a laugh of disbelief, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. _

_ “Not gonna give me any time to process all this shit, are ya?” _

_ Anthony shook his head.  _

_ Henry looked like he was putting together a difficult puzzle, staring at the floor as his brain whirred and clicked. Anthony watched him carefully, cementing the image in his mind, thinking how it would be the last time he saw his friend without a look of disgust on his face. He took a shaky breath, resigned to the fact that he was about to lose the man he cared so much for.  _

_ Anthony reached out hesitantly, turning Henry’s face towards him. Henry blinked at him. He’d never seen so much pain on Anthony’s face, despite his weak smile. He didn’t shy away from the physical touch; the other man’s hand was warm and soft. _

_ Anthony bit his lip, running his thumb over Henry’s cheek before leaning forward. He placed a soft kiss at the very corner of Henry’s lips, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. He was tired of hiding his emotions from his best friend.  _

_ The kiss was so soft. Henry closed his eyes for a moment as he felt Tony’s lips against his skin. It all fell into place. Why Anthony had been so distant. Why it had felt like he was running.  _

_ “I wanted it ta be you instead a’ them,” The blonde thumbed over Henry’s cheek again before pulling his hand away, “I’m sorry,” Anthony whispered. Sorry for the lying. For the hiding. For being this way. He made a move to stand, but was stopped.  _

_ Henry grabbed his arm, keeping him in place. He quickly reached up to cup the back of Anthony’s neck, guiding him into a kiss.  _

_ A real kiss. _

_ Anthony’s eyes went wide before slipping shut, letting the tears fall and melting into the other man’s touch. Hands quickly scrambled to grip Henry’s shirt, holding him there desperately. Like he was afraid the brunette would disappear if he didn’t grab tight. Henry pulled away, running his thumb over Anthony’s cheek, wiping away any remaining tears. He offered the man a soft, genuine smile. Each felt their own heart soar.  _

_ “I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” He half laughed. Anthony blinked at him and let out a huff of laughter of his own, mostly in disbelief, before he pulled Henry back into another kiss. _

_ Their kissing was fervent, but gentle. There was a timid-ness to it; the cautiousness of learning how to kiss someone new. But that faded quickly. They were swept up in the high that only came after a truth was told and accepted. Adrenaline and desire filled their minds as Anthony climbed onto Henry’s lap. He thread his fingers through dark hair, clutching it in his fists as Henry held him by the waist. _

_ Anthony swiped his tongue against the older man’s bottom lip and was pleasantly surprised when Henry deepened the kiss back. His large, warm hands inched their way under Anthony’s shirt to lightly trace the muscles on his back. It felt like every fantasy Tony had ever had was becoming real. Kissing Henry, touching Henry, Henry touching him. It was addictive and he wanted as much as he could get. _

_ Slim fingers moved from hair to unbutton the brunette’s shirt as quickly as they could. Dark chest hair was revealed; the blonde finally letting himself look at Henry’s body with hungry eyes. No more guilt, no more shame. At least for tonight. Anthony would make tonight enough to last the rest of his life if he had to. _

_ The blonde gave Henry another deep kiss and rocked his hips down, feeling the telltale signs of arousal beneath him. He might not have been able to go all the way with those other men but he pretty much knew what he was doing, at the very least. _

_ “Henry…” Anthony pulled away to look into hazel eyes. Those fuckin’ beautful eyes. “I want you.” _

_ Henry’s eyes were half-lidded and distant. He’d been so caught up in the motions and feeling that it took him a second to register what his friend had said. “Uh…..what? _

_ “Do ya have any condoms or anythin’?” _

_ “What?” Henry’s eyes went wide in realization. Anthony...wanted him. To fuck him? No….Anthony didn’t want to fuck Henry. He could tell by the look in his eyes and the way he kept rolling his hips that the blonde knew what he was asking for. Connecting the dots made Henry feel like his brain was about to burst, “But…” _

_ Tony looked at the face of the very confused Irish man and scoffed. It was like Henry finally realized Anthony wasn’t wearing a chastity belt or something, “I ain’t a fuckin a prude, y’know.” _

_ “I just...you…I didn’t know…” _

_ Henry stammered, his expression shifting from confusion to soft puppy dog eyes. Seeing that, Anthony didn’t have the heart to stay offended. So instead he giggled, pecked Henry’s lips and rolled off of him. He tugged on the man’s hand, “Oh my god, just get on the fuckin couch.” _

_ The brunette stood and did as told, letting Anthony guide him into the living room area. Thankfully the candles glow still made its way into the space from the hall, so they could still see enough. Which was good, because the sight of Anthony kneeling between Henry’s knees was one he didn’t want to forget any time soon. _

_ Tony undid Henry’s belt and pants quickly, pulling the fabric down below the man’s knees, along with his boxers. The blonde leaned up, taking the older man’s lips in another kiss before kneeling down fully, letting his hand caress Henry’s cock.  _

_ That was enough for Henry’s brain to practically short circuit. _

_ “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” the brunette rushed the words out before soft hands or a wet mouth could distract him. He didn’t want to take advantage of Anthony. Two men together was the furthest thing from what Henry was used to, but he wanted to be respectful just like he’d been with other partners in the past. He didn’t want to force anything on anyone, but especially not his best friend. _

_ Anthony glanced up, his mouth mere inches from Henry’s length, and gave a patronizing smirk. Then, without a word, he took the entirety of the half-erection into his mouth. _

_ A shocked moan sprang from Henry’s lips as he looked down to watch Tony’s head bob up and down, sucking and licking furiously to get Henry fully hard. The brunette reached down and wove his fingers through hair; blonde hair. A dozen blondes had been between his legs before, but this time it felt more right than it ever had. Better than any other person. Henry bit at his lip and took deep breaths, trying desperately not to fuck up into Tony’s mouth. Soon, his hips were shaking and he couldn’t keep his voice down. _

_ “Anthony! Shit, you feel so good.” _

_ At the mention of his name, Anthony pulled off and smirked again. Wider this time. _

_ “So, did this convince ya ta fuck me?” Brown eyes met hazel ones. Anthony’s smile softened, “I wanna know how good you feel, too, y’know.” _

_ Henry pulled him up gently, bringing their lips into another kiss. _

_ “You have too many clothes on.” _

_ The blonde stood and quickly shed his outfit, then reached down to search Henry’s pants for a condom tin and his own pants for a small tube of KY. Henry noticed immediately. _

_ “Why do you have that?” _

_ “I said I’ve done stuff before. What, ya think I just magically got that good at suckin’ dick?” Anthony snorted and joined Henry on the couch, tracing his finger between the other man’s pectorals, down his abdomen and to his happy trail. _

_ The older man gave a sharp look of concern. One that didn’t lighten, despite Tony’s teasing comment, “No, you said you weren’t a prude.” Henry turned to look at Anthony’s face, cupping a freckled cheek in his hand, “Did any of those ass holes at the club force you into anythin’? I’ll kill them if they did.” _

_ Tony quirked a brow and huffed softly in amusement.  _

_ “What? No! Ha! Fuck no! They know I had a gun and a place ta hide a body. No one fucked wit’ me. I swear.” Henry gave the blonde a look, like he knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Anthony gave a reluctant sigh and blushed, “I just…I haven’t….I couldn’t....They weren’t you, okay?” _

_ The admission hit Henry like a ton of bricks. Tony really did care for him. So much. And he deserved to be cared for, too. Smiling softly, the older man leaned in and kissed Anthony, gently taking the lube and condom from his hands, “Let me?” _

_ The blonde flushed again, looking down in happy anticipation as he nodded, turning his head to kiss Henry’s palm. He laid back on the couch as Henry settled between his knees. There was a moment of pause as Henry rolled on the condom, spread lube on his fingers and squeezed a few drops on Anthony’s center but, as soon as he could, he leaned over and brought their lips together again.  _

_ A digit slowly slipped into Anthony and he arched his back, groaning into Henry’s mouth. A few thrusts and then a second finger with more lube slid in. The sensations were gentle and soft. And as it went on, Tony realized Henry was... hesitant. Nervous. _

_ Two arms wrapped around the older man’s shoulders, tender brown eyes looking up at him, "You don't gotta be so gentle. I ain't gonna break."  _

_ "I just...don't want to hurt you." _

_ "You won't." Anthony hoped the reassurance would help. He wanted Henry and he would be damned if their only chance to be together was ruined by either of them being too timid. “I promise.” _

_ Henry nodded and resumed his touches, this time pumping and twisting his fingers until Tony was writhing. The blonde man beneath him was sexy. Radiant. And Henry wanted nothing more than to make him feel good. _

_ “Henry...please.” Anthony whined into the tan skin at his now lover’s neck. “I need you.” _

_ Hearing that, Henry slipped his fingers out and lined up with Anthony’s entrance. He kissed Tony again and then pressed in past the ring of muscle, hissing at the tight clenching around his shaft. _

_ “You okay?” the brunette checked in, noticing how Anthony was practically shivering. _

_ “Yes, don’t stop!” Nails dug into Henry’s back as he slid the rest of the way in, more than happy to oblige the request.  _

_ Henry paused to let them both adjust but only a few moments passed before Anthony was squirming and trying to rub against him. _

_ “Christ, you’re so impatient.” Henry chuckled, playfully nipping at Tony’s neck. Anthony’s stubbornness was cute in a way that the brunette hadn’t ever noticed before. _

_ “I’ve waited too damn long for this and I’m not wastin’ another fuckin’ second! Scopami." Anthony shifted again, causing the man above him to instinctually buck his hips. _

_ "Va bene. Te la sei cercata." Henry smirked. _

_ The thrusts began slow, their bodies moving together as best they could despite the couch making things a bit awkward. But soon Henry was panting and Anthony was crying out, a mess of Italian and English swears filling the old house. _

_ "Henry! Più forte! Ancora! Ho bisogno di te... Ancora!" _

_ "Ah! Merda, non credo di riuscire... Sto per…" Henry’s movements were stuttering and intense at this point, Anthony’s lithe body and fluttering heat making it hard for him to keep it together. _

_ "Fallo. Voglio farti venire! Ti prego!" Anthony grabbed at Henry’s wrist with one hand and placed a palm over his shoulder scar with the other, bracing himself. Hearing Henry moaning in Italian, seeing his broad shoulders, hazel eyes and dark hair above him, feeling his warm body collide with his own...Tony was committing it all to memory. Every bit of it. He never wanted to forget this. _

_ “Anthony!” Henry gave a few hard thrusts and then petered out, his climax coming hard and fast. Tony rolled beneath him, sliding his own hand from Henry’s wrist between their bodies and gave his own cock a few firm strokes. The extra stimulation and Henry’s name on his lips caused his own building tension to snap, bliss flowing from his head to his toes.  _

_ Henry kissed Anthony’s neck and up to his temple, breathing heavily as he came down. Once he was sure Tony was fine, he pulled out, tied off the condom and laid back down on the couch. To Anthony’s surprise, Henry wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close into a spooning position. _

_ The blonde rolled over and buried his face in his lover’s chest, “Did...didja like it?”  _

_ Henry chuckled and kissed the top of Anthony’s hair. What kinda dumb question was that? “Heh...course I liked it.” _

_ “Are ya gonna stay?” This time his question was a whisper. He was almost too afraid of the answer to ask, but he made himself do it anyway. Tony hoped that Henry didn’t want just one night. He hoped that he wanted more than that. He hoped Henry wanted  _ **_him_ ** _. _

_ “Anthony...of course I’m gonna stay. I don’t wanna...” Henry pulled back a bit to look Tony in the face, “I missed you.” _

_ The blonde looked up into hazel eyes, his mind telling him it was too good to be true. But Anthony pushed the doubts down. He grabbed Henry’s cheeks, pecked his lips and brought their forehead together in a gentle touch, “I missed you too.” _

_ They stayed like that for a moment and then Anthony shifted again, turning his head to place a long, gentle kiss on the bullet scar he gave Henry all those years ago. He’d wanted to do that for a very long time. _

* * *

Angel groggily blinked awake. He rolled over, snuggling in closer to his lover’s chest and hummed at the warmth. The pink demon leaned up slightly, still half asleep, and kissed the man’s right shoulder. 

"Sei fortunato che quella cicatrice ti stia bene…"  He muttered, breathing deeply as sleep threatened to overtake him again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so soundly. 

"Torna a dormire, Anthony. È troppo presto." Husk muttered, one arm flopping over his face as he pulled Angel closer. The words slipped from his lips with the ease of someone on the threshold of consciousness.

Angel’s eyes flew open. He was suddenly very, very awake. 

He pushed himself up quickly, looking down at Husk. The cat looked mostly asleep, but he could tell from the way the other demon was breathing that he was awake. He shook Husk’s arm.

“Husk,” Angel said firmly. Husk let out a small groan, rolling over onto his side a bit. Angel leaned forward and flicked one of the cat’s ears.

“Ow! Angel, what the fuck?” Husker half-heartedly sat up, rubbing at his ear. 

“What didja just call me,” It wasn’t a question. Angel sat upright on the bed, staring at Husk. The old cat just blinked at him, racking his brain. He hadn’t called Angel anything. Unless… Oh fuck. That wasn’t part of the dream.

Husk’s face fell from it’s grimace to a pained look. One of fear and guilt. He was sure it wasn’t the first time someone had called Angel the wrong name in bed but he really couldn’t be blamed for being half awake. He’d responded on instinct when he heard Angel say  _ something _ in Italian but his sleep rattled mind couldn’t remember what it was. Either way, he made a huge mistake.

“Fuck. I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- It-” Husk stumbled over his words, that oh-so-familiar sorrow clawing at his chest. He pushed himself up from the bed, making a move to leave. 

Angel scrambled to his knees, grabbing the demon’s arm to keep him in the bed. 

“No, Husk, wait. That name. What was that name ya just said?” Angel looked at him, face full of pain.

“Angel, I didn’t mean to call you that.”

“Say it again.”

“Don’t make me-”

“Please,” Angel looked at him so desperately that Husk felt his own heart tug again. He swallowed, taking a deep, shaky breath. He looked at the bed spread, images of the blonde man he lost flashing in his mind. Husker couldn’t ignore that clawing at the back of his head that he was going to lose Angel now, too. All from some stupid mistake. 

“Anthony… I called you Anthony.”

Angel looked down at where his hands were holding onto the cat’s paw. He’d never told Husk his name before. But it sounded too familiar on Husk’s lips. And it wasn’t just his name. It was the way that Husk said it. Something gnawed at the edge of Angel Dust’s psyche, beckoning him to press forward.

“Say it again,” He didn’t sound angry. Just…confused. 

Husk looked up. What kind of sick joke was this? Was Angel seriously this committed to making him embarrass himself?

“Anthony.” 

Angel’s heart leapt just a bit as he looked up to Husk, “Again.” 

Husk swallowed, hesitating. He wanted to claw his own heart from his chest as that familiar ache settled there. If he could just stop caring for one moment. Stop remembering...

Angel reached a timid hand forward, cupping the demon’s face to force Husk to look at him. Husker half shied away from the touch, unsure if he deserved such a gentle gesture. His eyes hesitantly met Angel’s own, holding his gaze. He could see the way that Angel seemed to be grasping for… something. Those beautiful mismatched eyes that were… were so close to…

It couldn’t be.

“Anthony?” He breathed out the name so gently and with so much emotion; letting himself hope… just for a moment but afraid that if he spoke any louder it would break the spell.

Angel felt his voice catch in his own throat. 

“...Henry?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian Translations:
> 
> [Fuck me.]  
> [Fine.You asked for it.]   
> [Henry! Harder! More! I need you...more!]  
> [Ah! Shit, I don’t think I can...I’m gonna…]   
> [Do it. I wanna make you cum! Please!]  
> [You’re lucky that scar suits you…]  
> [Go back to sleep, Anthony. It’s too early.]
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:
> 
> 1\. A raid on a queer bar was no joke. Mob owners often ordered raids on these establishments to ensure publicly that people didn’t equate the mob with queer culture in any way. They would ensure that all of their own people were out and not hanging around those places during a scheduled raid. Police would usually barge in through both front and back doors of these establishments and clear people out, arresting anyone who they thought might be gay. It was illegal for queer people to be served alcohol and was grounds for these individuals to be arrested. The Stonewall riots later in the 60s were partially against these raids, but also occurred to help break the hold that the mob had over the clubs.   
> 2\. Personal lubrication was in common circulation since the late 1870s. KY Jelly was one of the first personal lubrication brands and was available by prescription until the 1970s. People also frequently used vaseline.   
> 3\. Condoms came in tins in the 1930s. Trojan was a brand at the time and has lasted until this day. It wasn’t until 1937 that the FDA created quality standardization and testing for condoms. Al Capone famously died of complications with late-stage syphilis.
> 
> Where to find us:  
> Rocky's Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> Rocky's 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes
> 
> Panda's Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> Panda's 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Art by Hunter: @hntrgurl13 on Twitter


	8. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past and present collide, Angel and Husk have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some more beautiful art at the bottom of this chapter <3 
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia.
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

_ “I wanted it ta be you instead a them.” _

_ “Do ya wanna kiss me Husky?”  _

_ “I just... don’t wanna hurt you.” _

_ "It almost sounds like ya wanna stay over.” _

_ “Of course I’m gonna stay… I missed you.” _

_ “Anthony. I called you Anthony.” _

Angel gripped his sink counter tightly as the words echoed in his head. Between the roar in his ears and the floating sentences in his mind, he didn’t even register Nuggets oinking at his feet. He just stood there, blinking at the countertop, trying to simultaneously catch his breath and remember how to breathe.

Angel Dust hadn’t waited too long after he had said Henry’s name. Husk’s name… No... Hen- Fuck. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry or kiss him. So instead, he just ran. He shut himself in his bathroom as quickly as he could, hoping that the barricade of a door between them would soften the blow as everything crashed together in his mind. 

The spider demon rubbed at his temples, trying desperately to get his mind to slow for just a moment. The more he thought, the more he wanted to scrape his brain out from his skull with a spoon. He wished he had some of his good shit to help curb the onslaught of questions in his head. How had he missed this? How had he not seen that Henry… that Husk was…

They both had that same gentle smile, when he could coax one out of Husk. The same patience for listening. That same gaze that seemed to stop Angel’s heart mid-beat. The same fucking laugh, though Husk’s was lower now that years of age, alcohol and cigarettes had taken their toll.

Even before he had remembered this much, being around Husk had felt… right. He felt like he was supposed to be there. Maybe Angel’s heart, as burnt out as it was these days, still remembered even before his head did. 

But that was bullshit. He  _ didn’t _ remember. Not everything. Angel couldn’t remember past that night he gave himself to Henry. And he had no idea how much Husk remembered of their time together. It had been… shit it must have been nearly ninety fucking years since that night. 

“Fuck…” He breathed out, hating how broken he sounded. Angel Dust spared a glance at himself in the mirror as he pulled his sheer robe tighter to his body. He looked nothing like the man he had once been, all pink fluff and limbs. But Husk had wanted him anyway… right? Would he still want him now? Angel looked so tired. Used up. Scared.

But why should he be scared? Hen-... Husk had clearly wanted him last night. He hadn’t known who Angel was, he couldn’t have. He just wanted him for who he was right then… not who he had been. Right?

And Hus-... Henry. It turned out that Henry had wanted him too. The heartbreak he had felt as a teenager seemed to be so unfounded and stupid with all this new information. Henry had wanted him. Henry had  _ missed _ him.

Shit. This wasn’t what Angel wanted. He wanted to move on. He wanted to be with someone new. Someone different. Enjoy having a dumb crush and acting on it. But he also wanted Henry back. Back in his arms and in his heart. Yet...he didn’t. Because that was too much. It was like Angel Dust’s feelings were two magnets of the same polarity, so similar yet pushing against each other with violent force. It made his mind hurt. He wanted Husk. And maybe he still wanted Henry too?

But they were the same. They were the same person that Angel felt two different ways for. The same soul that was hopefully still sitting on the other side of his bathroom door. 

At least…he hoped he was still sitting there.

* * *

Husk didn’t know how long he had stayed on Angel Dust’s bed, staring at the door. Angel had left so fast, he hadn’t even been able to get a word out. Every few moments, Husk let out a quiet sigh, just to break some of the silence in the room. 

Angel… Angel was… 

Husk swallowed thickly, pressing his back to the headboard as he looked up to the ceiling. He was a fucking idiot. The one moment he let his stupid heart con his head into something and-

Still, his chest tugged in some futile way. Angel was still there.  _ Anthony _ was there. The man he had lost so long ago was now immediately in front of him and had wanted him. He had asked him to stay the night before. Did he still want him to stay?

Husk closed his eyes. Flashes of that night with Anthony played through his mind. The warmth of his body, the kiss to his shoulder, fingers gripping him tightly. It played over and over and over again. And then he thought of all the touches he just shared with Angel. Each time was different, yet so similar. Husk repeatedly thudded his head back against the headboard. His heart clenched as one particularly loud thought passed through his mind. 

He had lost Anthony. 

He’d lost him. And Husk, for all his efforts, could not remember how or when. He couldn’t remember when Anthony disappeared from his life. Had they fought? Was it just one night? Had he hurt him? Did something else happen? Worse than that… Did Angel know what had happened between them?

Fuck. How much  _ did  _ Angel know?

Suddenly, Husker felt painfully sober. What he wouldn’t give for some hair of the dog right about now. He didn’t see anything in Angel’s room. He could go down to get a bottle...but the only thing worse than being here when the spider demon opened that door was  _ not _ being here. He couldn’t leave Angel like that, even if he was afraid to hear the truth.

Even as worry and fear coursed through him, Husk could still feel a small flicker of stubborn hope. Hope that maybe… maybe knowing who he was would make Angel more likely to...stay. Remembering the past hurt. It hurt every fucking time. But, if remembering who he was was what it took to get Angel to stay, to be more than just a one night stand, then Husk would accept it. He knew he wasn’t much, especially now, but maybe it would be enough.

God this was all so fucking stupid.

Husk could hear Nuggets squeaking and pawing at the bathroom door. His eyes blinked open and fixed on the doorway once again, hoping that it would open. It had to open eventually. Right? Husk bit the inside of his cheek and thunked his head back against the headboard once more, dragging a paw over his face. 

His ears perked up when the door knob turned. Nuggets came sprinting out of the bathroom and immediately jumped back onto the bed with Husk, squealing and snuffling at the cat’s lap. Angel stood in the doorway, his eyes flicking away after locking with Husk’s for barely a moment. The cat demon pushed himself up out of the bed and stood.

“Husk-”

“Angel-”

The two demons spoke over each other. Angel bit his lip and looked down immediately. Husk steeled himself, hating how the spider refused to look at him. But he couldn’t blame him. He could barely look at the other demon either, lest he lose any bravery he had to speak. After a breath, it was Angel that spoke first, holding a hand up in front of himself while others curled around his body, chiffon robe clinging to his form. 

“Husk, if I don’t say what’s on my fuckin’ mind I’m not gonna be able to get it out…” Angel fixed his gaze anywhere but the bartender’s face. He knew the moment he looked directly at him he’d lose his resolve. He’d break and tell him to leave. Or kiss him back into bed. Either way, he knew he had to say something, as hard as it was. Husk nodded.

“Go ahead,” He sat back down.

The spider demon took a deep breath, wrapping one of his lower arms across his body to grip the other by the elbow.

“I like ya. A lot. But...I don’t...this is complicated. I didn’t sign up for complicated. I signed up for bouncin’ on a hot guys dick, with the added bonus of actually likin’ the guy fo’ once. Wantin’ ta maybe spend more time togetha? I dunno. I guess I wanted ta have fun? You’re really fun. Ya make me laugh. Ya make me feel happy...in a way that I haven’t felt in God knows how fuckin’ long. Only Cherri and Fat Nuggets have made me feel like this kinda happy. I ain’t throwin’ this away. Otha’ people…they just wanna use me. Like Charlie. She’s nice ta me, but I know it’s for her own agenda at the end of the day. She ain’t no different than everyone else.

“But you…” Angel felt his voice catch in his throat as he looked back up to Husk. The demon’s eyes were wide and gentle. Full of sorrow. “Fuck, you’re the only person in this hotel who actually seems ta give a shit about me. The real  _ me _ . How I am now.” Angel ran a hand through his hair. “You ain’t never made me feel used. Ya make me feel like a person….like myself. I don’t wanna...lose that. But. I can’t handle a fuckin’ soap opera either. There’s a lot missin’,” He tapped his head a bit before crossing his arms over his chest. Angel kept his legs locked and his body tense, forcing himself to power through his words. He could barely register what he was saying, his head light with adrenaline, “I’ve been Angel Dust a whole lot longer than I was ever Anthony. I just...I dunno. I just like ya. Regardless of the past. But… I get it if you were lookin’ for someone else. I’m just… I’m not him anymore, I don’t think. I’m Angel Dust now.” He gestured to his body in a sharp movement, standing firmly as he finished his speech.

Husk looked away and bit at the inside of his cheek, mulling over everything. So Angel didn’t know everything that happened. That helped him feel a little better. And it made his heart leap a little that Angel didn’t want to lose him. He didn’t want to lose the spider demon either. Not again. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he let that come to pass. But...there were so many feelings. And Husk barely knew how to feel them, let alone talk about them.

The cat gave a rough sigh.

“Well, the past don’t fuckin’ matter to me. I don’t remember everythin’ either. And bein’ down here hasn’t helped shit. I know I liked ya then… I know- I know I like ya now.” Husk cleared his throat into his paw and put a small, dry smirk on his face, “Dunno what the fuck this all means but…we don’t gotta talk about it. Honestly, I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about it. ‘Bout our pasts. I ain’t the man I was and neither are you. So we can still...do this...whateva it is,” Husk gestured with a claw, waving it back and forth between them and shrugged, “If ya want.”

“Yeah....” Angel paused. Husk had always been hard to read but it felt like he understood what the cat was trying to say. Maybe, if they left it alone...focused on the present instead, that would help. “Ya right. We ain’t who we used ta be. Hell, we barely remember who we used ta be! We ain’t gotta talk about it, don’t gotta use our old names, nuttin’. I like ya here and now, Husky. It don’t gotta be anythin’ serious or complicated. Just a good time. Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Husk smiled awkwardly, hoping it came out better than it felt. There was a beat as both demons processed each other’s words. Like everything weird and overwhelming from a moment ago was melding into the frequency of the present. Husk cleared his throat again and crossed his arms, “Will ya stop standin’ so fuckin’ far away from me now?”

Angel quirked a brow, shock hitting him in the gentlest way.

“Why? Ya wanna kiss me again?” the spider demon put his sharp grin on, the tension still slowly leaving his body. Putting up a flirty front helped him feel normal. Maybe he could tease Husk back into being normal again too.

“Yeah,” Husk could feel every part of his face heating up. He wanted Angel closer again and having him on the complete opposite side of the room felt…wrong. Especially after all of that.

The cat’s eyes were downturned and his voice was curt, but the tips of his ears were bright red. Angel snorted a little laugh, though there was a bit of gratitude behind his eyes as he saw Husker’s clear attempt to bring back some semblance of the mood from yesterday. Maybe teasing did work. What a cutie.

Angel Dust made his way back to his bed, crawling onto Husk’s lap. The pink demon wrapped two of his arms around Husk’s shoulders and tilted the cat’s face back up into a kiss. Husk let out a small noise against the porn star’s lips, smirking before pushing the kiss deeper, his hands immediately going to Angel’s waist to pull him closer.

Paws traced the smooth slopes of Angel’s body and suddenly Husk felt okay. Everything they just said was absorbed and believed, like meeting skin-to-skin was what made it all real. A purr started up behind Husk’s ribs again and Angel snickered.

“Y’know, I’m gonna enjoy that every time it happens.”

Husk chucked, deep and rich. It sounded almost disdainful, in a dominant way that made Angel flush.

“I’m sure I can getcha to make sounds too,  _ beautiful _ ,” Husk leaned in and breathed the pet-name right into Angel’s ear, then trailed his lips down the pink demon’s jaw line to his neck.

If this was all they had to do - ignore the past by kissing and flirting and making each other laugh - then Angel was all for it. He could do that. He could enjoy this. The spider arched his back as Husk continued to kiss and nip his way down; the robe fell open, cascading to the floor, as soft moans escaped Angel’s mouth.

A loud grumble suddenly filled the space. Both demons pulled back from one another, confusion plastered on each of their faces.

The growling, gurgling sound sprang up again, louder this time. Angel blushed furiously as he realized it was coming from him.

“I..uh...I think that’s my stomach. Fuck...I didn’t eat anythin’ last night, did I?” the porn star snorted, trying to blow it off casually.

“Pffft...nah. Think you were, ah, a little busy. From what I remember, anyway.” Husk brought a paw up to pet and scritch at the back of Angel’s head. His other hand lightly pat a pink thigh “C’mon, let’s get some food in ya.”

Angel scooted off of the older demon’s lap, watching him stand and stretch his back as he walked to the door.

“You comin’ or what, Legs?”

Angel stood and pulled on an oversized sweater, fixing his hair as he made his way over to Husk. “Fine, but only cuz I need ya energized fo’ round two.

* * *

“I assume ya wanna keep this on the DL, right Husky?” the spider said, looking through pantry for ingredients and cooking utensils.

“Uh...lunch?”

“No, us fuckin’, ya dumbass. Gotta hunch ya don’t want everyone in the hotel knowin’ we might make a habit of it.” 

“I mean...yeah. I prefer to keep my private life private. All that kinda shit. I hope that ain’t….” Husk shrugged, hoping he wasn’t coming off as insulting. He wasn’t ashamed of Angel but...being open about hooking up with anyone was a lot for him. After this morning he kinda just wanted to keep Angel to himself for a little bit.

“Ha! I don’t really care either way. This’s s’posed ta be fun, remembah? I can have fun with a handsome kitty without people knowin’.” Angel grinned but his smile faltered when Val crossed his mind. “Prolly betta ta keep it quiet anyways.”

“Mmmm.” Husk hummed in affirmation, watching the spider demon mince a few things, “You sure you don’t want help?” Husk asked from his spot at the table as he took a sip of bourbon. 

Angel waved him off as he poured a can of tomato puree and paste into a pot of water, grabbing down a frying pan with another hand.

“Listen, I may not remembah a whole fuckin’ lot. But I know what I’m doin’ in here, Mistah I-only-know-how-ta-make-sandwiches,” The spider turned on the flame underneath the frying pan, letting it heat up. 

“I know how to make a lot more than sandwiches,” Husk huffed, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah?” Angel looked over his shoulder as he stirred the pot of sauce, “What about the time ya nearly got the fire department called on y-” Angel stopped himself when he saw Husk’s eyebrow raised. 

Fuck, they’d only been at this for a half hour and Angel was already bringing up the past. This was surreal. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, really. He no longer had to choose between chasing those memories of Henry or pursuing Husk. They were the same. But Angel had to remind himself that Husk didn’t want to talk about the past. Neither of them did; they didn’t need that to be what they were now. He gave a small smile, and a wave of his hand.

“Nevah mind. Just lemme do this for ya, ‘kay?” He turned back around, sliding a couple of garlic cloves and a chili into the frying pan. “I still owe ya one, anyway.”

Husk shook his head, a small smile cracking across his face. The sight before him was oddly relaxing. Angel was humming some forgotten tune to himself as he cooked, keeping a close eye on the pan in front of him. It felt...weirdly normal.

_ New York City August 1936 _

_ Henry took a deep breath, rolling over in bed to glance out his bedroom door. He looked into the kitchen, where Anthony stood at the stove. The blonde was attentively watching a pan of eggs, making sure they didn’t overcook. It was a sight he was quite used to these days. Anthony, half naked, cooking in his kitchen. _

_ Henry had gotten his own place earlier in the year after his mother had passed from a heart attack. It had happened so suddenly, shaking Henry to the core. But Anthony had been right there beside him through it all. Always right there with him. Like how it used to be. Even in his sorrow, he had never felt alone. Being able to be there with Anthony, to hold him through it all, had lessened the pain. They would drink and remember and Henry would be able to smile. _

_ The apartment wasn’t much; a bedroom, bathroom, small kitchen and sitting area. But it was enough. In the past year that he and Anthony had been together it had been enough. The apartment was on the edge of The Village, close enough to the 181 for Anthony to come and go from the building as he pleased without wandering eyes or loose lips. Henry maintained with other associates that it was because he was tired of hauling ass all the way to the midtown games and that he needed to get away from the house after his mother’s passing. But in reality it let Anthony spend at least three nights a week there. _

_ It had been perfect. _

_ On evenings that they both worked, Henry often woke to the other man sliding into his bed in the early hours of the morning, kissing his shoulder before curling up close. If he didn’t have a game, Henry would spend time in the backstage areas of the 181. He finally began to understand the world that Anthony was a part of; the glitz and glamour of the stage made his lover shine in such a wonderful way. Henry still wasn’t sure how that stage manager saw him, but the other performers he liked quite a bit. He was glad to know them now.  _

_ Henry and Tony snuck around, of course. They had to. But it didn’t stop them much. Furtive kisses in back alleys to and from Family meetings frequently turned to more behind the safe doors of Henry’s apartment.  _

_ Once again, they were nearly inseparable. And no one questioned it for a second.  _

_ The brunette just watched as Anthony flitted about his kitchen with practiced ease; humming to himself as he grabbed what he needed without looking up. One of Henry’s shirts hung loosely over his shoulders, bare feet shifting back and forth against the kitchen floor. It felt right to have Anthony standing there, like it had been a small part that had been missing from Henry’s life all along.  _

_ Henry didn’t know when it had happened. Maybe it had happened slowly. Maybe all at once. Maybe when he had first kissed Anthony, or long before that. But there was only one word that he could give to that feeling inside his chest, that little vibration that happened every time Anthony was close to him. But he hadn’t been able to name it until he saw the sunlight from his window hit Anthony’s freckles at this exact angle. In this exact moment. _

_ Love. _

_ Henry pushed himself up from the bed and tugged on a pair of boxers. He walked up behind Anthony and wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist. The brunette pushed the fabric of the shirt down to kiss Tony’s shoulder before holding him tighter. _

_ “Finally gettin’ up, lazy ass?” Anthony smiled and placed one of his arms over Henry’s.  _

_ “Mhm, for now,” Henry chuckled, peppering kisses up the nape of Anthony’s neck, “Come back to bed?” _

_ “If I come back to bed, you and I are both gonna starve.” Anthony laughed. _

_ “Nah…’sides, I said I would cook breakfast this mornin’.” _

_ “The last time ya tried makin’ breakfast we were teenagers and ya nearly got the fire department called,'' Tony snorted and shook his head, pulling down plates before loading them up with breakfast food. Anthony would often bat Henry away from the stove saying that he’d burn down the whole building with the way he cooked. One bad attempt at cooking and he was deemed a kitchen pariah. Henry smirked and reached around to sneak a piece of bacon off of one of the plates. Tony smacked his hand and turned around in Henry’s arms, “Can ya fuckin’ wait ‘til I get these ta the table?” _

_ “No,” Henry grinned through the bite of food. Anthony rolled his eyes as the brunette leaned down to kiss his cheek. Henry pulled back, arms still wrapped around the blonde, and looked at the man in front of him. Those beautiful brown eyes blinked up. Henry’s heart buzzed again.  _

_ “You okay?” Anthony asked after a pause.  _

_ “I-” Henry started. He had tried to say those words… three little words shouldn’t be that difficult. But they wouldn’t come out. He knew what he felt in his heart. It was letting Anthony know that seemed to be so difficult. Instead, he just smiled and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to Tony’s forehead, “Yeah. I’m happy you’re here.” _

_ Anthony laughed and wrapped his arms around Henry’s shoulders, pulling him down the few inches into a proper kiss. _

_ “You’d go hungry if I wasn’t,” The blonde teased, patting his cheek. _

Husk stared at Angel’s back. Anthony’s. He felt his heart do that same flip. That same vibration. The one that made him feel like it was nearly caught in his throat. 

He’d loved Anthony… Actually loved him.

Suddenly that feeling of grief that always spun around in Husk’s mind made sense. He hadn’t just lost his best friend. Or a crush. He’d lost a man he loved.

And by some miracle or fate, he had that man back. They were different now, sure. They both knew that. But Husk could feel there was some part of Angel, however small or not, that was still Anthony. His Anthony. 

Husk didn’t know when he’d started walking over to the other demon, but he didn’t really care. He wrapped his arms around Angel’s waist and pressed his forehead to the spider’s back. 

Angel stopped his stirring, tensing for a moment as he blinked in surprise. He glanced over his shoulder to see the top of Husk’s head and let his expression relax into a smile. 

“Husky? Ya okay?” He asked lightly, then chuckled, “Didn’t think one lay was gonna make ya go all soft on me.”

Husk swallowed, ignoring the quip and genuinely unsure of how to answer the question. He eventually settled on a nod. It wasn’t like Angel could see his face.

“Yeah…I- I’m just glad you’re here,” He said quietly. Maybe Husk could let himself feel...just a little bit happy. Just for this moment. 

Angel blushed and placed two of his arms over Husk’s, resuming his cooking.

“If I get splattered with oil cuz I got ya clingin’ ta my back like a baby gorilla, y’ain’t gettin’ any food,” Angel teased. Husk huffed out a laugh of his own, keeping his forehead pressed to Angel’s shoulder. He gave a twitch of his wings as he stood a little taller.

“I’d like to see you fuckin’ try.” 

With their backs to the door and over the sound of cooking, neither of the demons saw the flash of red nor heard the small hum of static as Alastor left the doorway. The Radio Demon twirled his microphone and grinned to himself, his yellow teeth glowing in the dim hall light. Ahhh, yes. This was all shaping up to be quite…entertaining.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Thank you to the AMAZING Hunter for the beautiful art in this fic
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. A lot of the apartment buildings in Greenwich Village, where many of the gay clubs were and still are, were used to same sex partners going in and out of the buildings. It became sort of a "safe haven" where queer people could meet in their own homes  
> 2\. Boxers as underwear became popular around 1934 when Everlast (yes the boxing company) created the short for the boxing ring. Men took to wearing them as underwear because they were comfortable.   
> 3\. Eggs and bacon became a staple of the American diet in the 1920s when pork producer Beech-Nut Packing Company launched a PR campaign to increase consumer demand for bacon. The campaign involved asking the internal company physician if a heavier breakfast might be good for the American diet. The physician said yes and then wrote 5,000 other doctors to confirm his suspicions (without actually implementing any real study). The “study” was then published in newspapers and demand for bacon in the American diet increased substantially.
> 
> Where to find us:   
> Rainbowpandas  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rockyrants  
> Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes
> 
> Hunter:  
> Twitter: @hntrgurl13


	9. More Than Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Husk joins Angel when he plays hooky. Tension finds its way to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the lovely art at the end of the chapter by our lovely friend Huinter!
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
>  1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia.
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

Mixing himself a screwdriver, Husk yawned and sat at the bar, waiting for Angel to come flouncing down the stairs. It was almost noon but Angel was a late to bed, late to rise kind of guy. Everyone in the hotel knew that. Especially Husk. 

For two weeks this had been the routine. Angel would come back late from work on the tail end of a high and Husk would follow him upstairs, where they would kiss, flirt and fuck until early morning. Sometimes they would drink, sometimes they would smoke, sometimes they would pass out in a mess of limbs. But each night the cat demon would stay next to Angel for as long as he could until he needed to sneak back to his own room or downstairs to his post.

Most mornings he’d nap at the bar and be woken up by one of the head honchos, usually Alastor or Vaggie, telling him to get his shit together. Thankfully, his normal drunk demeanor meant everyone in the hotel was already used to a sleeping cat at reception. They didn’t give it a second thought. Husk chuckled to himself, wondering what Vaggie or Niffty would think if they learned he was sleeping on the job because Angel kept him busy and not because he was black-out drunk. They’d probably blow a gasket.

He’d go about his usual day until Angel would come downstairs and drop off Fat Nuggets. If anyone was around, they’d carefully steal a touch of hands or a wink, enjoying the adrenaline rush of teasing without getting caught. One time Angel even had the balls to give Husk a peck on the cheek with Charlie and Alastor sitting on the lobby couch. The pink demon had sprinted out the door as the cat flung half-hearted curses at him, trying not to seem like he liked the attention. Their arrangement was fun. It was nice. And no one seemed to be the wiser.

There had only been three nights they didn’t spend together; each time Angel had big-name clients on his list that wanted to keep him all evening. Husk didn’t like it one fucking bit, but it wasn’t really his place to complain. He was just glad Angel wasn’t with Val. Or one of those johns that left the porn star looking like he got caught in a back alley brawl. Husk could ignore those rich assholes as long as Angel wasn’t getting hurt. To the best of his knowledge, anyway.

Even though he and Angel knew so much more about each other, they both had their own skeletons in their closets, long lost memories of life aside. But now that they were fucking, it was the easiest thing in the world to just give into carnal desire and leave the rest at the door. Angel’s touches and kisses swept Husk away so he didn’t have to think for five seconds. Addiction was easy for both of them to fall into. Despite their preferences for booze and drugs, sex happened to be far cheaper. And way more fun. Husk couldn’t remember feeling this good since...well, his twenties. Since the last time he remembered being with Anthony. 

Two nights into their tryst, Husk told himself that what he had with Anthony and what he had with Angel weren’t the same. He had been in love with Anthony. Angel was a fun time, a guy he liked seeing. He had lost Anthony. Angel was here. He didn’t need the holes in his memory filled in. He could just enjoy the present and move on. He could drink and smoke and bicker with Angel. He could have fun with Angel. He didn’t want or need strings attached. He didn’t need to feel all those things again or ask questions about their lives. And, thankfully, it seemed like Angel Dust didn’t need to either.

Husker could remember falling in love with Anthony, sure. But falling in love after an entire youth together was one thing. What he had with Angel now was different. And it wasn’t love. 

It had been decades of a life lived on Earth and in Hell that he and Angel hadn’t been together. He hadn’t even known the other man was out there. Husk didn’t know how he lost Anthony. And he sure as fuck didn’t know all the bullshit that Angel had been through during his own time in Hell. He  _ did  _ know that decades like that could completely change a soul. 

But then there were those small things that he noticed. Small bits of the man he fell in love with that came creeping through in Angel Dust. The way his eyes crinkled when he had a sly comeback. The way he still hummed those old showtunes under his breath when he was fiddling with makeup or tapping away on his phone. The way that he’d bite his lip when his brain was too loud and the drugs that numbed his mind wore off. The genuine smiles…

It was difficult to ignore. But Husk did his best anyway. Angel Dust wasn’t the same as Anthony. Angel was more aware of how other souls saw him, often using that to his advantage. He was freer and more comfortable with himself than Anthony had ever been. Not to mention the fact that he was a relentless flirt with anyone who would stand still for more than five seconds.

Husk found himself leaning into those differences. Embracing them wholeheartedly. Anything to suppress the pain that the past still seemed to cause him. The urge to be cautious was too loud to ignore.

Two right hands snapped in front of Husker’s face, jerking him out of his groggy stupor.

“Uhh, Husky, were ya strokin’ out or somethin’?” Angel Dust gave a teasing grin. He looked so pretty today, wearing a short, flowy dress that showed off his shoulders. Husk’s eyes trailed the collarbone he had peppered with bites the night before, wondering if there were marks under the spider’s soft pink fur. A knowing look flashed in Angel’s eyes, “Like what ya see, kitty cat?”

“Nah, just thinkin’. The fuck’s it to you, Legs?” Husk smirked and hid behind a sip of his drink. Angel giggled, the laughter somehow sparkling around him. Husk looked down at Nuggets to try to keep himself from staring at Angel Dust again.

“Oh~, someone’s in denial. I think ya need some coffee and fresh air.” Angel bent over to clip a leash to Fat Nuggets’ harness and then picked the piggy up, “C’mon and join me and Nuggies fo’ a walk.”

Husk took another sip from his screwdriver, pausing in thought.

“Ain’tcha workin’ today?”

The spider gave a casual shrug, “Val told me ta work the street. I can be on the clock and play hooky for a bit. No one usually wants company til later anyways. So, waddaya say?” The spider held Nuggets up to nuzzle their cheeks together, making doe eyes at the demon in front of him, “Wanna take these two cuties for coffee?”

Husker remembered the spider mentioning street days before, commenting on how they sucked. And if playing hooky for a little while put that off, who was he to deny Angel. With a dry chuckle, the old man tossed back the rest of his drink and stood to walk out from behind the bar. He playfully shoulder-checked the pink demon as he walked towards the exit.

“I thought you were buyin’.”

Angel shot the cat demon a grin and took a few strides to catch up, “Excuse you, I look too hot ta be the one buyin’ today.”

Husk held open the door and rolled his eyes. This fuckin’ fluffball.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go before I change my mind.”

* * *

  
Husk peeked at the pink demon out of the corner of his eye as he took a sip of his black coffee. Well, it was mostly black. Husk couldn’t resist adding a little something to his own drink to make it more palatable. Plus, it helped him feel less like he had been dragged through the gutter. Meanwhile, Angel looked almost glamorous, strolling down the street, clutching Nuggets’ leash in a lower hand and his drink in an upper one. He was slurping on a large, monstrosity of an iced mocha double shot caramel something-or-other. The spider had asked for so many pumps of different sugar syrups and whipped cream that Husk was surprised the poor barista could fit any actual coffee into the cup.    


“Don’t tell me you drink those regularly,” Husk grumbled, watching as Angel took another gulp.    


“Says Mistah Irish Coffee,” Angel grinned around the straw, “How much booze ya dump into that?”    


“This ain’t an Irish coffee. If you want one of those I’ll actually make you one sometime. This is me dealin’ with being out in public,” he snorted, “And you? Do ya actually have a normal order or do ya just randomly say sugar syrups ‘til you run outta room in the cup?”

“Fo’ yer information, this is my normal order.” Taking an obnoxiously loud sip, Angel Dust raised his brows in challenge.

“Yeah, uh huh. I’m sure you couldn’t even remember what’s in it without lookin’.”   


Angel took another large, loud sip and then handed the cup to Husk so he wouldn’t look at the label.

“Trenta mocha frap with seven pumps caramel sauce, four pumps caramel syrup, five pumps roast coffee, three pumps mocha, three pumps toffee nut, double blended with two percent, two extra shots, extra caramel drizzle, and extra whipped cream. Suck it,” He took the drink back from the cat, reveling in the way he raised his eyebrows in surprise, “And if I flirt enough with the barista half of those syrups don’t even cost me extra.”   


“Cost  _ me _ extra you mean.” Husk quipped, “Can’t you just drink espresso or somethin’ like an ordinary fancy bitch?”   


“If I’m makin’ my own? Yeah,” Angel snorted back, “But you’d hafta pay a looooot of money ta get me ta drink a cup of the straight up, burnt ta shit, watered down excuse for an espresso they try ta pass off at that shop. Betta ta hide it under layers of shit that actually tastes good.”    


“Ah,” Husk nodded, “So it’s more about ya bein’ a fuckin’ snob when it comes to food and drink again.”   


“Just ‘cause I have impeccable taste-”   


“Debatable.”    


“I choose ta have  _ your _ dick in my mouth on a regular basis, don’t I?” Angel teased, knocking his elbow against Husk’s, making the cat blush and take another large sip of his black coffee. Angel snorted, “I like it when ya get all flustered.”   


“I ain’t fuckin’ flustered.”   


“Daw! Yeah, ya are. Your feathers poof out like an upset cockatoo,” The spider reached over with a spare hand and scritched behind one of Husk’s ears, causing it to twitch. Still, Husk didn’t bat his hand away.    


“Stoppit,” Husk muttered into his coffee cup. Angel burst into another round of giggles and brought his fingers down to poke Husker’s cheek. The cat started to complain but the moment was cut short when he heard a particularly loud wolf whistle.    


Angel’s head turned first. A tall demon in a pinstripe suit that had just passed them had stopped on the sidewalk and was looking Angel over with a lecherous eye. He was about the same height as Angel Dust but somehow he wore his ego like stilts; he seemed to tower above every demon on the street, including the cat and spider. He looked like a real slimy mother fucker, in Husk’s opinion. 

Angel Dust sized him up and quickly handed Nuggets’ leash over to Husk, putting his lower hands on his hips in a seductive pose. He took a step closer to the demon and fluttered his lashes.

“Hey~” Angel grinned, “See somethin’ ya like?”   


“Very much so, darling,” The demon purred, taking a step forward to meet Angel. Red eyes glowed as his sharp smile spread wider, “But you seem to be a bit…” He glanced at Husk, looking at him like he was shit at the bottom of a shoe, “Busy.”   


Angel smirked, his posture changing with his persona. It was strange, seeing how the spider put that mask on. It was so effortless that it made Husk’s skin crawl. The more he saw the real Angel, the more off-putting the phony one became. He gripped the leash tightly, half glaring at the demon in the suit.

“Nah, I can make time,” Angel said with a small shrug, “Didja have somethin’ in mind?”   


“Certainly something more exciting and satisfying than shitty coffee, but,” He looked at Angel’s coffee and then back up, “You sure do like to get cream on those lovely lips, don’t you?” The demon put a hand under Angel’s chin, tilting it up and then side to side, as if he were inspecting some animal. Angel didn’t fight it, even looking like he was swanning under the attention. Husk’s feather’s ruffled, a growl escaping his chest. The tall demon laughed, “Don’t like sharing toys, kitty?” He turned his attention back to Angel, “Doesn’t Valentino keep pretty things like you locked in a tower somewhere?” 

“He ain’t a thing, you fuckwad.” Husk was practically boiling. It was like his feelings from the night at the billiards bar but burning ten times brighter. The cat knew it wasn’t his place but he’d be damned if he let this shit-heel mess with Angel. 

Angel’s shoulders tensed and looked back at Husk. His eyes narrowed just a bit.   


“Husk. You’re cute when you’re pissed and all, but I’m workin’. I can handle this big boy. We’ll talk later,” the pornstar huffed under his breath, giving a tilt of his head to signal for Husk to leave. Then Angel turned his attention back to the john. He winked and he took a slow and sensual sip from his coffee, that fake ass smile creeping back onto his face.   


“Yeah, pussy cat. Fuck off,” The tall demon laughed, sliding closer to Angel, “So, baby, how much?”    


“Depends on how much time ya want me ta make for ya.”   


“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make good use of that cunt with whatever time I can get,” The demon reached over and slid his hand up Angel’s arm, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. 

Husk saw the way that Angel’s face twitched minutely. The smallest look of hesitation and fear before being shoved behind a facade. Husk had seen that look before. A pang of desperation hit the cat demon right in the chest.

_ New York City November 1937 _

_ It had been a shit show from the moment Henry woke up. He’d forgotten to set an alarm after he and Anthony had come home late from the club; so he’d woken up way behind schedule. Tony had also been particularly distracting that morning, even as Henry was trying to get out the door. It took every bit of will power for the brunette not to crawl back into bed and resume the fun they were having the night before. _

_ “Would ya fuckin’ calm down?” Anthony teased, kissing Henry’s shoulder as the man sat on the bed, tugging on his shoes. He tied them quickly, trying to ignore the pale hands tracing his waistline, “They ain’t gonna have ya head for bein’ a few minutes late.” _ _   
_

_ “Your dad whooped your ass the last time you were late to a meeting! You seriously think I’m gonna fair any better?” Henry stood quickly, pulling away from Anthony’s grip. The blonde huffed and flopped over in the sheets, stretching in the sunlight. His freckles almost glittered as the sun hit them. _ _   
_

_ “So I got a coupla bruises, big deal. Nothin’ new. I think you’re overestimatin’ my pop, though. I was fine. You’ll be fine, too.”  _ _   
_

_ Henry grabbed his shirt out of the closet and buttoned it up as quickly as he could, missing the top buttons as he cursed to himself. He heard Anthony sigh and shift from the bed, only glancing up as he felt a piece of fabric loop around the back of his neck. Anthony tugged on the ends of the tie, pulling Henry into a kiss.  _ _   
_

_ “Ya worry too much,” Anthony whispered against his lover’s mouth, then pulled back to tie a crisp windsor knot. He smoothed Henry’s shirt in a few places and gave a cheeky grin. _

_ “Nah, I worry just the right amount,” Henry shook his head. He placed a hand on the back of Tony’s neck, pulling him forward to quickly peck his forehead, and sprinted out the door.  _

_ Traffic only added to his troubles. Henry found himself dodging around pedestrians as he made his way towards the restaurant where he was scheduled to have his meeting; cursing at his own watch. Enrico had let him know the day before that he was expected at a meeting in Brooklyn at 12:00 sharp. It was now 12:05, and Henry knew he was going to be in deep shit. Regardless of what Anthony said. He felt his stomach sink as he rounded the corner, Enrico’s impatient form coming into view. _

_ The capo had irritation rolling off of him in waves; a murderous aura if Henry had ever seen one.  _ _   
_

_ “I’m sorry, sir, there was traffic.” Henry exhaled, out of breath from the two blocks he had just run from where the taxi had let him off. He moved to the door and opened it for his boss, acutely aware of the weight of Enrico’s cold gaze.  _ _   
_

_ “Fix your fuckin’ buttons and get your ass inside,” Ricky growled. The Italian straightened, immediately plastering on a cheerful smile as he greeted the three other men at their typical table, “Willie! My deepest apologies for our tardiness. This is one of my associates, Henry Casey…” _

_ The meeting went off without a hitch. Henry was set up to handle more games near midtown throughout the week. Despite being late, he was able to rattle off enough numbers from his games to earn a scrap of respect from the other bosses. But it did little to deter the anxiety that curled in his stomach. He knew what Ricky was capable of, beneath the facade of business. _ _   
_

_ He gave his customary nods and handshakes as the other higher ups left; shoulders still tight as he was left standing there with Ricky. Enrico turned slowly, looking Henry up and down for a moment as his car rounded the corner.  _ _   
_

_ “I want you back here tomorrow. On time. At noon. Do ya understand?” His voice was slow and calculated. As much of a prick as his boss was, Henry knew better than to deliberately cross Ricky. Being sarcastic or curt was one thing, he could get away with that and had for years. But he knew legitimately pissing Enrico Scavo off was something else all together. He wasn’t about to put his neck on the line like that. He wasn’t about to put Anthony’s neck on the line like that. If Enrico ever found out exactly why he was late.... _ _   
_

_ “Yes, sir,” Henry said with another nod, not moving from his spot until Encrio’s car drove away.  _

_ The taxi ride back to his apartment felt longer than it needed to be. Nothing had happened this time, but Henry couldn’t shake the tension from his shoulders. Not during the taxi ride, not on the elevator ride up to his floor, not even when he walked into the apartment and saw Anthony lounging on his couch reading a magazine.  _ _   
_

_ The blonde sat up immediately, a bright smile on his face.  _ _   
_

_ “Still in one piece, I see,” He teased, draping himself over one of the arms of the couch. He reached out to grab at Henry’s hand, pulling him closer, “Everythin’ okay?” _

_ He nodded, still feeling too on edge for his own liking. He gave Anthony’s hand a small squeeze before walking to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of bourbon. He barely heard Tony get up from the couch and half jumped when the blonde wrapped his arms around his waist from behind.  _ _   
_

_ “See? I told ya. They ain’t gonna beat your ass for bein’ a little late. Especially to a fuckin’ lunch meeting,” Tony kissed his shoulder, “Worry wart.” He snorted under his breath. Henry rolled his eyes and turned to face Anthony. He placed his arms over his lover’s shoulders and sighed. _ _   
_

_ “You just gotta float through life without a care in the world, don’t ya?” _ _   
_

_ “Shouldn’t I?” Anthony grinned, “I’ve got a steady detail bouncin’ around the clubs, makin’ bank. I get ta be on stage twice a month and no one knows it’s me. And soon enough my pop will stop draggin’ his fuckin’ feet and I’ll get made. Then no one’s gonna mess wit’ me. Or you. Everythin’s goin’ perfectly.”  _ _   
_

_ Henry moved one of his hands to scratch at the back of Anthony’s head as he listened. The blonde grabbed his tie and gently pulled him down into a soft kiss.  _ _   
_

_ “Not ta mention I got a handsome man in my bed…” He whispered against Henry’s lips. Henry couldn’t help but laugh. _ _   
_

_ “Your bed, sure. That why I’m the one payin’ rent on this place?”  _ _   
_

_ “Ouch, I call ya handsome and all ya can talk about is rent?” Anthony shook his head, pulling away, “Low, low blow.” Tony walked over to Henry’s closet and pulled out one of his own suits. He’d gotten in the habit of keeping a couple at Henry’s place, minimizing how much he actually needed to go back to the family home to get changed. Tony yanked his undershirt over his head and tossed it to the ground, “Are ya gonna help me get changed or do ya wanna talk about financial responsibility some more?” _

* * *

_ Henry didn’t follow Anthony to the club that night. He didn’t even wait up for Tony to get back like he normally did and he set his alarm to go off an hour earlier than usual - much to Tony’s dismay the next morning. By eleven thirty he was standing outside the same restaurant, dressed and ready.  _ _   
_

_ Eleven thirty became twelve o’clock. _ _   
_

_ Twelve o’clock became one o’clock. _ _   
_

_ One became three.  _ _   
_

_ Three became five.  _ _   
_

_ The brunette shifted back and forth on his feet, sore from standing in one place for so long. He desperately wanted to sit, to go home, to do something. But he knew there’d be consequences if he wasn’t standing right in that spot when his capo came by. The sun began to dip low when a nice car rolled around the corner. He straightened his posture as Enrico stepped out. The capo looked Henry over and took a deep breath. _ _   
_

_ “Do ya understand the message?” He asked sternly. Henry gave a small nod. _ _   
_

_ “Yes, sir.” _ _   
_

_ “I risked a lot bringin’ you to that meeting yesterday. It was for your benefit. You showed nothing but disrespect by bein’ late.” _ _   
_

_ “Yes, sir.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Enrico looked the brunette over carefully; Henry could feel his skin crawling under the scrutiny. Finally, Ricky sighed, putting his hands in his pockets.  _ _   
_

_ "Where the fuck has your head been at, lately?” He asked. Henry blinked at him in confusion, making Enrico take a few strides closer. Though Henry stood a couple inches taller than the older man, he couldn’t help but feel smaller somehow under his gaze, “Y’know, Joe came and talked with me the other day. Said he had a guy runnin’ a game over by the 181. Said he saw you and Tony comin’ out the back door ‘round four in the morning. Went on and on ‘bout how there was no reason for you ta be there and then had the audacity to tell me I’ve got queer degenerates workin’ for me. ‘Course I set him straight about that.”  _ _   
_

_ Henry felt as if he had swallowed a rock. It was worse than that first time he’d shared a card table with Ricky all those years ago. Only this time, it was the boss looking for  _ **_his_ ** _ tell. And Henry wasn’t about to give it to him.  _ _   
_

_ “Now. I know that ain’t the case. I seen you with dames. Anyone who’s been in our neighborhood knows that. And I know you and Tony are close. Practically brothers. I know you don’t want him to fail,” Ricky took a deep breath, “But my idiot son don’t need your help runnin’ numbers. You let him fly or fail on his own. Ya got me? He trusts you too much. Find better company. Quickly.”  _ _   
_

_ Henry swallowed and nodded, “Yes, sir.”  _ _   
_

_ With that, Enrico got back in the car and drove away. The second the car turned the corner, Henry felt his legs nearly give out as the gravity of the situation crashed over him. _

_ Someone had seen him and Anthony. Coming out of a pansy club. Together. And Enrico knew about it.  _ _   
_

_ Henry knew that trust was a funny thing in that life. The Family life. You needed people you could trust, of course, how else could you do business. But that same trust could also be used against you. Violently.  _ _   
_

_ He couldn’t remember the taxi ride back to the apartment. Could hardly remember opening the door. The only thoughts that filled his mind were worst case scenarios of what they would do to him if anyone ever found out the truth. Worse still, what they might do to Anthony. The buzzing in his head grew louder and louder until it was broken by the feeling of his lover’s lips against his own.  _ _   
_

_ “You been gone a while, y’okay?” Tony asked, hands slipping under Henry’s suit coat to push it from his shoulders. The warmth of his lover’s hands sent a cold shock to his system. Henry grabbed Anthony by the wrists, gently pulling them off his body.  _ _   
_

_ “Tony, we gotta talk.” _ _   
_

_ “Mmm, later,” Anthony leaned forward, capturing Henry’s lips again, “I missed ya.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “No,” Henry tilted his head away as Tony kissed down his neck, “Not later. Now.” He stepped away from the blonde man, needing the distance to get his words out. Henry took a few more steps back, running a hand through his hair, “Someone saw us.” _ _   
_

_ "What?” _ _   
_

_ “Your pop- he had me wait outside the restaurant and-” _ _   
_

_ Anthony laughed, “He’s tryin’ that old fuckin’ trick with you? He’s not gonna do anything-” _ _   
_

_ “Would you let me finish? He said one of Joe’s guys saw us comin’ out of the 181. He thought I was helpin’ you run numbers-” Henry paused as he heard Tony snort with laughter and gave him a dry look, “Point is. Someone saw us. Someone told your dad about it and now he’s gonna be on both our asses and you don’t seem to give a shit. You know if someone’s talkin’ about me then they’re talkin’ bout you, too.” _ _   
_

_ “Let ‘em talk, we’ll just hang out at other clubs.” _ _   
_

_ “Tony, you’re not listenin’ to me.” _ _   
_

_ “I hear ya,” Anthony laughed, wrapping his arms around Henry’s shoulders, “You’re awfully cute when you’re worried.” _ _   
_

_ “Tony-” _ _   
_

_ “You’re more cute when I’m shuttin’ ya up,” he leaned forward to kiss the older man’s neck again. Henry pulled away, placing his hands on Anthony’s shoulders to hold him back.  _ _   
_

_ “I’m trying-” _ _   
_

_ “Henry, I already told ya. You wor-” _

_ “Worry too much?! Of course I’m fuckin’ worried, Anthony!” Henry raised his voice just a bit, shaking Anthony by the shoulders. The blonde stared at him, the smile leaving his face immediately. Henry jerked his hands away, apologetically letting Tony go. He put space between the two of them, walking to the kitchen table. Henry took a shaky breath, gripping one of the kitchen chairs, “...You… You trust me too much… He knows that. You know if either of us fuck up then-” Henry couldn’t get the words out. But he didn’t have to.  _

_ They both knew of men who had been called by their friends, by the people they trusted most, to meet somewhere. They’d go into a room and only one of them would come back out. A test of will, a test of loyalty to The Family. It was always The Family first. Personal relationships second.  _

_ If either of them fucked up, the other would be the one to pull the trigger. And if they were caught as lovers? Well… one would pull the trigger and the other might get to leave. Maybe. _

_ “We hafta be more careful,” Henry breathed out, staring down at his table. His grip tightened on the wooden chair, causing it to creak slightly. Without a word, a pale hand covered his own. Henry bit the inside of his cheek, turning his hand over to grip Anthony’s tightly. The Italian guided Henry’s gaze up to meet his. Henry could feel his heart hammering in his chest, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as his brain supplied worse case scenarios. Anthony reached up with his other hand, placing it on Henry’s cheek. He leaned into it immediately, bringing his own hand up to cover it.  _ _   
_

_ “Okay,” Anthony whispered, moving to kiss Henry’s cheek, “I’m listenin’.”  _

_ Henry could feel his stomach turn as Tony spoke, as he was still so gentle with him; he rubbed his thumb over the back of a freckled hand lovingly. Still, he avoided the other man’s eyes, his racing mind too panicked to slow. He had to fix this. He knew he could fix this.  _ _   
_

_ "They know you work those kinda clubs sellin’ product. They know you run numbers at the 181. We don’t hafta worry about that... But me… They know I ain’t supposed to be there. We gotta do somethin’. Change how we do things. I can’t… I can’t come to the club on the weekends anymore. Especially if they know I’m not workin’. You can’t come here as much either. Maybe I should see girls again for cover to throw ‘em off. Or- Or make sure when I do come to the club it’s not on a normal schedule or-”  _ _   
_

_ “Henry.” Anthony’s voice pulled him out of his anxiety riddled rambling. Henry swallowed his fear for a moment, hazel eyes meeting mismatched brown.  _ _   
_

_ "I don’t want him to hurt you...” The brunette admitted, voice weaker than he would have liked. There was a flash of pain on Anthony’s face, as if he was remembering all the beatings and bruises of the past. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I trust you, Henry,” Anthony breathed out, bringing their foreheads together, “Me trustin’ ya ain’t a mistake. And I won’t let him use it against us… You do what you hafta ta take the heat off. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”  _ _   
_

_ Henry’s eyes flicked across Anthony’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation from his lover. The Italian gave him a soft smile, running a thumb across his cheek. But even with that reassurance, Henry could feel that there was some part of Tony that was lying, a part of him that was wavering and afraid. He moved to capture his lover’s lips, kissing him deeply. Trying to take in the words that Anthony said. He felt slim hands move down his chest, towards his trousers.  _ _   
_

_ “I’m here, Henry. Let me take that stress away,” Anthony mumbled against his lips. Henry found himself nodding as Tony undid his belt. _

Husk didn’t know when he started to move. He dropped Nuggets’ leash and pushed the tall demon away from Angel, swinging his left fist across the slimy bastard’s face. One good hit was all it took for the demon to hit the dirt. Husk stood there fuming, teeth gritting uncomfortably as his claws dug into his palms. Even though the demon was clearly knocked out and unmoving, Husk made a lunge to dive onto him and keep the hits coming.    


“Husk, what the shit?!”    


Angel’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked over at the spider, the anger melting away slightly when he saw his expression; an equal mix of pissed off and shocked. Husk lowered his fists and crossed his arms to prevent himself from pummeling that prick’s face further into the concrete. Even if it was exactly what the fucker deserved.    


“The dipshit should get his bell rung if he’s gonna run his mouth like that.” Husk grumbled, picking Nuggets’ leash back up. He ignored the looks of the other demons on the street. Some had stopped to stare after the violent outburst but most just walked right by, used to conflict on every and all streets of Hell.

“I’m  _ working _ , Husk. Dipshits run their mouths like that  _ all the time _ ! It’s part of the gig!” the porn star didn’t seem to care about the audience either, raising his voice a bit louder than normal.

“So what, I’m just supposed to stand there while they talk to you like you’re-”   
  
“Like I’m what?” Angel put his hands on his hips, “Go ahead and say it, it’s already on the tip of ya tongue.”

“Don’t-”   


“Like I’m a whore?” Angel asked, voice edged with venom, “Guess what, Husk. I am! It’s my job ta be.” 

There was a tense silence between them. Ice and fury ran through Husk’s veins but he said nothing. Instead he steeled his face and refused to make eye contact with Angel. Instead he stared at the coffee he had dropped when he went to punch the tall demon’s face in. He heard the spider give a bitter snort of laughter.

“You wanna deal with my shit? Fine. Then you fuckin’ deal with it.”

Angel took the few steps over to the cat and yanked Fat Nuggets’ leash out of his hand, stomping off in the direction of the Happy Hotel. He slammed his half empty iced coffee in the trash as he went, cursing under his breath. Husk was left standing there, on the sidewalk, next to an unconscious demon.

Fine. If that’s what Angel wanted, then he’d fuck off. Who cared if he liked him? Who cared if this was the happiest and most alive Husk had felt since he died? Who cared if all he wanted to do was protect Angel? It clearly wasn’t wanted. It clearly didn’t matter. He knew Angel was tough but still. He needed help. But fuck Husk for giving a shit.

The cat snarled to himself, then spat a curse at the knocked out form on the ground. He kicked the coffee cup into the street and then turned, stomping off to find the nearest bar to drown his anger...and his sadness.

* * *

Husk chugged three large gulps of tequila, doing his best to force down any soberness that threatened to rear its ugly head since coming back to the hotel. Being out at a public bar had been a bad idea. Husk didn’t want to be around people. He just wanted to be alone. Like he deserved. 

The cat rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could have stayed out. He probably should have. But he knew it would be worse in the end if Angel had come back to the hotel and Husk hadn’t been there. It would have spelled a real end for… whatever they had going on. He wasn’t about to put a label on it.    


Label or not he didn’t want it to end. Not yet. And sure as shit not like this. 

So he dragged his ass back to the hotel to sit at the bar and wait around. Like a bitch. All for some fucking spider who was probably still pissed off at him. The same fucking spider who hadn’t been back in hours. Husk rationalized that it was because Angel was working, but it didn’t help his mood much. In fact, thinking about Angel with any number of sleazy bastards made him feel worse. 

The door to the hotel swung open, the darkness of night pouring in around the long, lean silhouette of Angel Dust. The spider demon stepped inside the lobby, an aloof expression held on his face as he smoothed his hair back. He took a few steps; his heels clicking on the floor sent an odd thrum of yearning and irritation into the center of Husk’s chest. The two demons locked eyes, Angel making sure to glower at the bartender with an extra obvious pout to his lip. Like he was trying to make a point to show he was still angry. Husk kept his face hard too, his stubbornness seeping through every pore.

The moment of tense silence was broken as Husk took another long sip from his bottle and the arachnid crossed his upper set of arms, turning his head away as he marched to the stairs. Husker continued to gulp his liquor and then let out a long sigh. This was stupid. Why was Angel so pissed at him? He’d seen the look on Angel’s face. The spider hadn’t really wanted to fuck that guy. He was just trying to help. Just trying to prevent him from having to fuck a jackass who only wanted to use him. He just wanted to show Angel that he….cared about him.

Husk glanced toward the stairs, knowing that Angel Dust was probably shut behind his bedroom door. The door he and Husk had hid behind for almost a dozen nights now, getting lost in each other and letting the rest of Hell fade out around them. The cat tightened his grip on his bottle. He wanted to go back to yesterday. This morning. But instead he was stuck here, in the present. 

Husk thought of the long gone past and being stuck outside that restaurant, waiting for something to happen, at the mercy of an Italian bastard who put the fear of God in him. And not able to do a goddamn thing about it. Fuck. 

He should go say something. But would Angel even listen? Did he care like Husk cared? Would he just get more upset? Husk stood from his chair, resigning himself to the fact that he’d just make it worse. He walked up the stairs, slowly, grumbling about how stupid this was. And then suddenly the cat demon was standing in front of Angel’s bedroom door, paw clenched in a fist as he tried to build up the courage to knock.

But he couldn’t. He knew Angel would probably still be angry. And that was...scary. They’d gotten caught up in a routine; a fun, sexy, carefree routine. This? This felt like a talk. Like, a talk talk. And Husk didn’t know if he wanted that. If they talked, that could lead to them having something more, sure, but part of him just wanted to go back to what they were doing. Screwing each other’s brains out and laughing and smoking and enjoying each other’s company. It felt like knocking was...admitting there were strings here, between them.

A snuffling oink broke Husk’s train of thought as he heard Fat Nuggets paw under the door, seeing the shadow of his snout poke out into the hall.

“What is it Nuggies?” Husker could hear Angel’s muffled voice from the other side. He wanted to turn around, he wanted to stand tall and stick to his guns, he wanted to tuck his tail between his legs and beg for forgiveness. But instead Husk just stayed in place, shoulders tight, arms crossed and eyes cast to the side as he heard the doorknob turn.

There was a beat of awkward pause as Husk glanced up to see Angel’s brows raised high. The spider was no longer wearing his pretty dress, instead in pajamas and his robe. He studied the cat with an unamused eye before turning sharply, the fabric of his sheer robe fluttering behind him. Husk carefully watched as Angel sat at his vanity on the other side of the room.

“Let’s get this ova with.” Angel kept his eyes on himself in the mirror. His voice sounded tired. Disappointed maybe? Definitely still upset.

Husk took a step into the room and closed the door behind him, Nuggets rubbing against his feet. The cat demon stood there, sheepish but still scowling.

“You...uh...still pissed?" Husk rubbed the back of his neck, watching Angel take off his makeup from the day.

"Ya interrupted me tryina get a client. Yeah, I'm still pissed." The pink demon’s voice was terse and he kept his eyes on his reflection, peeling off his fake lashes.

"Thought I was fuckin’ helpin’..." Husk crossed his arm again, tail twitching in irritation. Angel didn’t get it. Course he didn’t.

The spider gave an annoyed snort and spun on his vanity stool. His eyes were on Husk’s face but he kept them focused at the center of the cat’s forehead. Like making eye contact with him would cause him to snap, “Helpin’? By treatin’ me like a weak little whore? That’s bullshit, Husk. You punchin’ a guy out for me is hot and all but it can’t happen again. ‘Specially not while I’m on the goddamn clock.”

Angel grabbed a cigarette from the carton on his vanity and angrily flicked his lighter. Red smoke curled around his head as he inhaled deeply.

“Didn’t seem like you wanted to fuck the guy is all. I know you hate street days. And ya said you were playin’ hooky.”

“Of  _ course _ I didn’t wanna fuck that guy.” Angel rolled his eyes, exasperated. “But this ain’t about what I want. It’s about what Val wants. And Val wants his money in full and on time. If that means I take johns off the street, then I take johns off the street. And if a payin’ job comes up, then I do it, hooky or not.”

“Those assholes don’t deserve to touch ya.” Husk mumbled.

“I shoot  _ porn _ Husk. Other people touch me all the goddamn time.” The spider crossed his arms and clenched his lower hands, “This shit didn’t seem ta bother ya before we started fuckin’. Ya  _ never _ treated me like a damsel in distress ‘til today. Why do ya suddenly got a stupid hero complex?“ 

Husk’s jaw tightened as that look of fear on Angel’s face flashed in his mind. The same look on Anthony’s face. 

“I just...didn’t want him to hurt ya.”

“They can all hurt me, Husk. The nice lookin’ ones, the mean lookin’ ones, my boss...” At the mention of Valentino, Husk perked up, anger clear on his face. He didn’t even want to think about what the purple shit-stain did to Angel. Angel’s shoulders softened slightly as he saw Husker react, lower hands gripping the edge of his robe. He took another drag from his cigarette, “I get ova it. I get through it. I don’t need ya ta save me. I’m fine.”

Husk watched the spider carefully. It was the same shit poker face he’d seen at the table on game night. The same fucking mask that Angel always hid behind when anyone got too close to a nerve. Husk could tell he was lying. But he knew when to press his luck, and now wasn’t the time. 

“You deserve to be more than fine,” Husk looked away from Angel, fixing his gaze on anything else in the room. It was becoming difficult to keep his face stoic and his emotions to himself. He felt Angel’s eyes scan his face and then heard him give a gentle sigh, like he was breathing out his last bit of frustration.   


“Husk....” The spider paused, thinking, “If ya want me, then stay. But stayin’ involves bein’ okay with my bullshit contract and me gettin’ clients. So...fuckin’ decide. Stay or go.” Angel turned his head towards his vanity again, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop. Husker could see the new, different tension in his shoulders. 

Husk glanced at Angel’s face in the mirror’s reflection and saw the pink demon watching him back. Then the cat walked to the bed, sitting down on the mattress with an exhale. 

“Fine,” Husk huffed.

“Fine,” Angel Dust’s tone was resolute and clipped, but no longer upset. He stood and made his way to stand in front of Husk. Without a word he shed his robe and shimmied his pajama shorts off his long legs. The cat practically did a double take at the sudden view of Angel’s thong right at eye level.

“Uhh…?” Husk was overwhelmed. The emotional whiplash from fighting to a now naked Angel was… jarring to say the least.

The spider just snorted a laugh, smirking at the confusion on the bartender’s face, “Makeup sex, babe.”

“I mean...we don’t gotta....or, er...”

Angel leaned over, heterochromatic eyes finally locking with golden yellow. “Do ya really want me ta put my clothes back on?”

Husk paused, feeling the blood from his cheeks rush south. This damned pink bastard had him wrapped around his finger. And what’s worse was that he knew it. They both did.

“....No.”

Angel gave a cocky grin. 

“That’s what I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocky's History Corner:
> 
> 1\. The two mobsters mentioned in this chapter, Willie and Joe, were real people Willie Moretti and Joe Adonis Doto. Willie was the godfather of Frank Sinatra. Willie Moretti's intimidation of Tommy Dorsey to release Sinatra from his contract was said to be the inspiration for the iconic "an offer he couldn't refuse" scene in the Godfather; even though Sintara denied any connection to the mob his entire life. Between 1933 and 1951, Willie, Joe, Settimo Accardi, and Abner Zwillman ran several gambling dens from New Jersey through upstate New York for the Genovese crime family. 
> 
> 2\. It was commonplace when a mob hit needed to happen within a family that a close friend or even sibling would call a meeting with the target in question.
> 
> Where to find us:  
> Rainbowpandas  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rockyrants:  
> Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes
> 
> Art By Hunter!  
> @hntrgurl13 on Twitter


	10. Easy to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to shift for Angel and Husk when they have a movie night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Hunter for the art at the end of the chapter!
> 
> A few disclaimers:  
> 1\. We know that the ages are slightly off given what Viv has mentioned in streams/what is on the wiki. We are aware these things are subject to change. This is why we've tagged it Slight AU. We changed the ages to better align with historical events.
> 
> 2\. There is sexual content in this fic. We will state if a chapter has sexual content in the beginning notes.
> 
> 3\. Present Day Hell will be written in normal font, Memories will be written Italics, Texts/Letters in Bold Italics
> 
> 4\. There will be Italian, translations will be found in the bottom notes. All translations done by the lovely LadyAmelia. Spanish translations by Aylu and Peachilulumami.
> 
> 5\. Rocky comes from an Italian Family, all knowledge of Italian American stereotypes come from personal experience.
> 
> 6\. We're hoping to update this biweekly, if we're able to update more regularly we will.
> 
> 7\. We love you and we love these characters

“He’s _who_?” Cherri asked, blinking at Angel, her mouth slightly slack with shock. It had been weeks since he’d had a good sit down with his best friend, so Angel had invited Cherri over for a few hours. Even though he and Husk decided to keep things on the down low, he felt like if he didn’t tell someone about it soon he was going to burst. And he could trust Cherri. Nothing he told her would ever get back to Val or Charlie or anyone else. The spider’s secrets were safe with Cherri Bomb.

Angel hadn’t spoken to her much since the night he and Husk first hooked up and it had been driving him up a wall. Even though Cherri had completely blown him off weeks ago when he texted her, if Angel didn’t tell her what was going on now, it wouldn’t feel right. She had been a bitch before, but she was Angel’s bitch. And he couldn’t ever keep her out of his afterlife for long.

“Husk is Henry. I- Look, I don’t-It’s- It’s a lot,” Angel pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of a better way to explain the situation. When he opened his eyes, his best friend was still staring at him with that stunned expression.

“I’m sorry. The grumpy ass-hole cat downstairs with the drinking problem is the same guy you had a crush on when you were a teenager?”

“I mean, it ended up as more than a crush. I know we fucked at least once.”

“ _At least?_ ”

“I don’t rememba anythin’ past that!” Angel shrugged, “Haven’t remembered fuck all since the first night we banged. I don’t wanna. What Husk and I got is... Well it’s fun.”

“So _this_ is why I haven’t heard from you much for three weeks,” She teased, “Dick that good?”

“God, yes,” Angel laughed, “But it’s more than that. I think. He’s nice ta me. We can shoot the shit and not hafta worry ‘bout makin’ the other feel bad. We have a good time. Well, when he doesn’t have that stupid fuckin’ hero complex,” Angel grumbled under his breath, “He said he doesn’t remember much of our time togetha topside either, so what’s it matter?”

“It’s been a while since you had a guy who wanted to play hero,” Cherri teased, laying back on Angel’s bed with a small laugh.

“Feels different this time. It's not that ‘oh I’ll save you’ kinda talk with him. I mean, he decked a potential client when we were walkin’ near the park cause the bastard was sayin’ some slimy shit to me,” Angel twirled a hand in the air, “We had a fight about it. It’s fine now but-”

“Oh ho! You said hero complex, you never said anything about a fuckin’ fight!” She grinned, “He knock the guy out?”

“Yeah.”

“Hot.”

Angel laughed and shook his head with a sigh. It _had_ been hot. But that didn’t change the fact that Husk didn’t listen when Angel said he could handle himself.

“Yeah. But not when I’m on the clock, Cher. We had to, ugh, talk,” He wrinkled his nose at the idea, “I mean, you get it. Not a lotta guys can handle all this.” He gestured to himself, plastering that fake smile on his face as Valentino’s voice echoed in his ears.

_You make it so difficult to love ya, baby doll._

The overlord’s words in his head made Angel pull a small grimace. Cherri frowned just a bit, noticing the drop in his expression.

“So, what? Y’all already over?”

“No, he- I told him he could leave. He doesn’t owe me shit. And it’s not like I can stop doin’ what I do. But… he stayed,” Angel looked down at his bedsheets, “Everythin’s great again. Sex is great. Don’t have ta talk about anythin’ that happened in our past, whether we remember or not. Just… havin’ a good time.”

Cherri’s face settled into a soft smile, “You really like this guy, don’t ya?”

Angel thought about the way that Husk had the option to leave. He could have walked out of the pornstar’s room and never looked back. He could have blamed Angel for the whole fight. He could have ignored him or berated him for the work he did, like so many other guys did in the past. Husk could have done any number of things and Angel wouldn’t have been surprised. Hurt, but not surprised. But instead he just sat on his bed and decided to stay.

That alone was enough of a shock. But the feelings bubbling in Angel’s chest were becoming harder to blow off as no big deal. That was pretty shocking for the spider, too.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I wanna get to know him,” Cherri grinned widely, “I gotta ask him what you were like on Earth.”

“Eh, he says he doesn’t have much memory of it. And he made it real clear he doesn’t wanna bring it up. Prol’ly for the best you don’t ask. From what I remember we were just a couple’a little shits who got into too much trouble, anyway.

“Ange, you’ve been chasing the thought of this guy for months and now you get him back and into your bed? I gotta know more than that! You know I do.”

“We’re just havin’ fun,” Angel shrugged, laying back against one of his big pillows, “It don’t gotta be more than us fuckin’ and laughin’.”

“Please, I know you better than that, Angel,” Cherri looked over her friend’s face. “You either spend a night or two with them and then kick them to the curb or you...don’t. And three weeks is a lot more than a night or two.”

The spider demon sighed, trying to ignore the truth in his best friend’s words.

“I’m not gettin’ my hopes up this time. I can’t. Not with him,” Angel said, shaking his head, “It’s fun. And I’m havin’ a good time. But it ain’t like it was when we were topside. And it don’t have to be. I don’t-” He thought for a moment, “I don’t want shit ta get complicated.”

And he didn’t. Complicated meant putting more of his heart out there and on the line. Complicated meant accepting those bubbling feelings actually meant something and would be more than just casual fun. Complicated meant believing that maybe one day Husk might actually… love him. And Angel didn’t want that. The moment he let things get that far, they always turned sour. They had so many times before. Why would now be an exception?

Still, Angel Dust was at the whim of his desires and he knew it.

“Babe, you thrive on complicated.”

“I know,” Angel groaned, putting his hands over his face. He lifted his head a bit when he heard Cherri’s phone go off.

“Ah, shit,” She muttered, “I gotta bounce. I got a guy droppin’ off a couple of new toys for me and I don’t need any of my fuckin’ neighbors taking my shit.”

“Fiiiiine,” Angel pouted and then gave a small smile, “I’ll walk ya out.”

“What, ya don’t trust me not to talk to your guy on the way out?” Cherri grinned as she grabbed her stuff.

“No, I don’t. And he ain’t my guy.” The spider demon snorted and held the door open for the cyclops.

“Sure he’s not.”

* * *

“So, you wanna hit up the Hive or somethin’ this weekend?” Cherri asked as they walked out of the elevator.

“I’ll see if I can swing it,” Angel shrugged, “Gotta check my schedule.”

Cherri paused, looking towards the bar. She caught Husk’s eye and grinned at him.

“Sure, I know your schedule is _packed full_ ,” Cherri stood on her tiptoes to kiss Angel’s cheek, “I’ll see ya around, hun.”

Husk squinted just a bit at the comment, his eyes trailing over to Angel. Of course those two pink demons wouldn’t be able to keep from gossiping around each other. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Thank fuck the lobby was empty. 

“Hey handsome~” Angel smirked, strutting over to the bar as soon as Cherri was out the door. 

“You told her?” Husk asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Me? I didn’t say shit,” Angel said, putting a hand to his chest, “Nope. We said we weren’t gonna tell anyone.”

Husk just crossed his arms and stared expectantly.

“Okay, fine, yeah I told her. But I had to! She’s my best friend, Husky. She _had_ to know. Can’t exactly keep shit from her. Especially not about the sexy demon who’s been in my bed nearly every night,” Angel dropped his voice just a bit, “You know I’m not very good at bein’ quiet."

Husk felt his ears heat up just slightly before he shook his head. He wasn’t surprised that Angel had told Cherri. And she wasn’t in the hotel much, so it wasn’t like she was going to blab. From what Angel had told him about her, Cherri seemed like the most solid friend that the spider demon had. He wasn’t about to get angry at that. It was more the fact that Angel was being so openly flirtatious in the lobby. Whether people were around or not, it made Husk feel nervous in a way he couldn’t explain.

“So, do ya think I can fit under the bar if I’m kneeling or nah?” Angel leaned forward, his fluffy chest pressing against the counter top.

Husk glared, trying not to let the mental image of his lover on his knees fluster him. Mumbling curses under his breath, the cat refocused his attention on rearranging the wells liquor in front of him.

“Oh c’mon Husky, don’t be shy-”

Suddenly, a voice cut through the lobby, interrupting the spider’s teasing.

“Angel, are you never not an obnoxious pain in the ass?” Vaggie sneered as she walked over to the bar, Charlie close behind her. The cat and the spider looked up at them simultaneously. Husk braced himself for the onslaught of nagging and insults that always came when Vaggie and Angel Dust butted heads.

“Are you never not a frigid bitch who can’t mind her own fuckin’ business?” Angel shot the lavender demon a shit eating grin. The sooner he could get rid of Vaggie the sooner he could get back to flirting with Husk.

Vaggie narrowed her eyes and straightened her back, “I’m the hotel manager. Everything here is my business. Now stop distracting Husk while he’s working. _Hijo de puta como chingas._ ”

“Ugh, why can’tcha let me and Husky have a conversation?” Angel Dust rolled his eyes and then cackled, continuing his quips “Or does us talkin’ just instantly make your panties bunch so far up your twat that you can’t shut up til Charlie goes spelunkin’?”

Husk could practically see the steam pouring from Vaggie’s ears. It was honestly hilarious to watch her and Angel bicker back and forth. Mostly because Angel knew how to piss her off and keep his cool at the same time. And Vaggie was smart and could give Angel a run for his money. It was like a comedy routine. Husker had to bite his tongue to keep from smirking.

It was clear Vaggie was about to snap and start shouting but before she could unleash her rage, Charlie stepped between her and the smug spider demon. The Princess rubbed her girlfriend’s shoulder in small circular motions. 

“Vags, take a deep breath. Go call the car. I’ll talk with Angel.” Charlie gently ushered Vaggie in the direction of the door after kissing her cheek, obviously trying to prevent the tension in the room from boiling over. The porn star rolled his eyes. It was always like this. Vaggie and Angel were at each other’s throats with Charlie stepping between them. Sometimes featuring commentary from Alastor. Thank god that red prick wasn’t here. Angel definitely wasn’t in the mood for yet another person interrupting him and Husk.

As the hotel manager reluctantly turned and walked away, Angel flipped her off. It helped him feel like he won the argument, as petty as it was.

Charlie crossed her arms and gave the pink demon a look of motherly judgment. He snorted in response but still lowered his middle finger, choosing instead to lean back against the bar with his two upper elbows.

“Angel, c’mon! You’ve been doing good in therapy the past few weeks. You’ve been keeping pretty clean, too. And you’ve been getting along so much better with Husk!” Charlie gestured to the barcat, who was pretending to dry a glass. “Why can’t you try the same with Vaggie? I think you two could really get along.”

“Psh yeah! If she ever decides ta get that stick outta her ass, I’m sure we’d be _best buddies!_ ” Angel scoffed, cheshire grinning through his sarcasm.

Charlie sighed but then gave a small smile, putting on that face of optimism she always did when she wanted to change the subject. “We have tickets to a show tonight so we won’t be back til late. Niffty is busy with two weeks worth of laundry and Al is doing...whatever the fuck he does.” she gave a carefree shrug, then pointed at Husker and Angel, “I’m trusting you two to hold down the fort. No baseballs, no fire, no parties.”

“You really think I’d throw a rager in _this_ dump? Pass, babe.” Angel lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, smirking as he blew out the smoke. Charlie gasped, clapping her hands in delight. 

“Angel, that’s progress! Last time I said no parties you told me to go fuck myself and asked which room you could host the orgy in!” She beamed. Husk couldn’t help but let out a coughing chuckle. 

“Yeah, yeah, whateva. Ain’tcha gal pal waitin’ for you or somethin’?” The spider waved the tip of his cigarette in the direction of the door.

“Oh shit! You’re right, gotta go. Have a good night, boys! Board games and movies are in the hall closet if you want to have some bonding time!” And with that the Princess of Hell sped out the door, off to some fancy dinner and some fancy show.

Once the door slammed shut, Angel snorted a laugh. He spun on the bar chair and looked at Husk, cigarette between his lips, “Wish they fuckin’ told me they had plans earlier. Cherri and I coulda had a girls night or somethin’.”

“Ouch, don’t be a bitch. I know I ain’t Cherri but we can still hang out.” the cat demon smirked, pouring himself a gin and tonic.

Angel quickly resumed his flirtatious stance from before he was so rudely interrupted by the two bossy bitches, lowering his voice to a purr. “Oh, yes baby. My room or yours?”

The spider demon hadn’t been lying to Cherri when he said the sex with Husk was good. It was hot and fun and addictive. For a lot of reasons. And he wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to feel good with someone he wanted to be with. Like he said all those weeks ago, he was in this for a hot guy’s dick and was glad that they actually clicked. Nothing complicated.

But the response Angel got surprised him.

“You know I wanna spend time with you doing other stuff besides fucking, right?”

“Uhhh…..maybe?” Angel Dust gave a grin but he felt...unstable? Taken aback. Sure, they had hung out plenty without having sex. Staying up and just talking with Husk was nice. Really nice. But anything beyond that felt kinda serious.

Husk paused. They could obviously go and spend the night between the sheets like they had been. But aside from that walk with Fat Nuggets a few days ago, which had ended terribly, they hadn’t had much time to just enjoy each other’s company. And, despite Husk not wanting to fully face...whatever he was feeling, he wanted to spend time with Angel Dust for more than his body. But from the look on the spider demon’s face, he could tell Angel didn’t fully believe him.

“Angel, listen, the sex is fuckin’ amazing. But I think you’re fun outside a’ that too.”

Angel blinked at Husk a few times. His smile hid his insecurity as it stretched into a shit eating grin, chest fluff pressing against the bar, “Are you askin’ me on a date, Husky?” He purred. 

Husk’s eyes went wide and he forced his face into a stubborn frown, “No. I’m saying we should watch some movies so I can give my dick a rest.”

“I dunno,” Angel teased, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bar, “Sounds like a date ta me.” 

“It’s not a fuckin’ date! I just don’t know how else to show ya you’re...” the cat lowered his voice to a mumble, hoping that Angel would just let it drop, “worth more to me than just some orgasms.”

Angel’s face was a bright, smarmy grin. He didn’t entirely know how to respond. Husk was sweet, he knew that. He’d experienced it a million times. But he’d never just flat out said anything like this before. And it meant the world to Angel.

But he had to get more teasing in before he could be sentimental about it. Needling Husk was just too much fun to pass up.

“I didn’t quite hear ya, Husky. What was that?”

“You absolutely heard me, you little shit.” The barcat grit his teeth, practically pouting. Fuck, he was adorable.

“I did but I want ya ta say it again.” Angel leaned forward a bit further, his gold tooth twinkling.

“No,” Husk said, moving around the bar. He began to walk towards the kitchen. 

“Oh, c’mon Husky. Humor me!” Angel called after him.

“I’m makin’ popcorn, you can pick the movies. Not shitty ones.”

“Okaaaay~”

“And none of your goddamn pornos neither!” He said, stopping briefly to turn and point at Angel. 

“UGH, fine!” Angel laughed, watching as Husk walked away.

And in that moment, Angel felt conflicted. But he could handle a movie night. They could keep it easy and fun without sex.

Right?

* * *

Angel fiddled with the DVD player almost nervously, eyes flicking over to the movies he had picked out for the evening. Husk said none of his pornos; he would obviously never make the cat sit through one of those if he didn’t want to. But the movies he _had_ chosen...well… Angel just hoped that Husk would want to watch them.

Movies from Earth were fairly easy to come by, if you knew the right people. Vox knew there was a market for nostalgic dipshits who would pay out the ass for things they had watched when they were alive. Charlie not only had that kind of money, but was seemingly okay throwing it at anything that might make someone’s stay at the hotel more comfortable.

Angel could have picked anything. A romcom. A cheesy action film. But he felt compelled to pick these movies; to show Husk that he gave a shit about who he was, even if they weren’t gonna talk about their past. Especially if this wasn’t a date. Which it wasn’t. Husk had even said so.

And Angel was okay with that. Mostly. Part of him wanted it to be a date. The last time he had been asked out formally was by that guy from the studio almost two months ago; and that had been a bit of a dumpster fire. Well, it hadn’t all been bad. If that guy hadn’t stood him up he would have never gone to the bar with Husk and then maybe they wouldn’t be here. Angel smiled fondly at the thought. 

The smile didn’t last though. One date with Husk might lead to something public. And if Valentino ever found out that Angel was seeing the cat, it wouldn’t end well. He was certain that his boss would do a lot more than just scare Husk away from a second date. Angel swallowed thickly at the thought of some of the things Val could do. And the way that Val made him feel...

_Baby, you’re a whore. If you think people want you for more than just a piece of that ass, you’re a dumber than you look._

“Okay,” Husk said gruffly, jolting Angel out of his thoughts as he came into the screening room. He set down a large bowl of popcorn on the coffee table next to the candy Angel had brought down from his room, “What didja pick?” A claw reached out and grabbed one of the DVDs.

“I got two fer us,” Angel grinned, still fiddling with the machine until it was up and running, “They’re old ones but… I dunno. I thought you’d like em,” When he turned around Husk was staring at one of the covers.

“She had this?” Husk asked, turning the case around so Angel could see. The green painted face of Boris Karloff stared back at him; _Frankenstein_ written in orange and white lettering at the top. The spider nodded.

“I... You and I went ta go see that one,” Angel’s voice had an edge of nerves to it. He knew Husk didn’t want to talk about their past but… well this wasn’t _exactly_ talking. Was it? Him and Husk hadn’t really talked about movies down here. So Angel really only had those memories to go on, “Ya dragged me to it three times? Ya do still like that movie, don’tcha?”

Husk looked back down at the DVD. He huffed a small laugh before handing it to Angel with a nod. Like was an understatement. Husk could vaguely recall dragging Ang- Anthony to the theater with him on several occasions. The last time as a way to make Tony apologize for shooting him in the shoulder. He’d eaten up every minute of the film and had even gone by himself to the theater two more times after that.

“Yeah, I definitely still like it. Haven’t seen it in years,” He picked up the other DVD and shook his head with a small sigh, “Really, Ange? A musical?”

“Hey! I like that one! One movie fo’ you and one fo’ me.”

“Jimmy Stewart can’t even fuckin’ sing.”

“He’s a fine singer, thank you very much. But if ya gonna throw a fit about it-”

“It’s not a fit.”

“We’ll watch yours first,” Angel grabbed the DVD, popping the copy of Frankenstien into the player before walking over to the couch. Nuggets had his trotters up on the coffee table, desperately trying to get a bite of popcorn. Angel grabbed a small handful and put it in a neat pile on the floor for the piglet to munch on before grabbing a box of candy.

Husk kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, smirking slightly at the way that Nuggets practically inhaled the treat he was given. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Angel move to pour whatever candy was in his hand into the popcorn.

“Whoa, whoa, what the fuck is that?” Husk held his hands protectively over the bowl.

“...Junior Mints,” Angel said as if it was obvious, “What?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What? Cherri and I always do this!”

“You’re not puttin’ those in the fuckin’ popcorn,” Husk grabbed the bucket and held it closer. The cat knew that Angel had a sweet tooth, but some things weren’t meant to be tainted with sugar.

“It’s good!” Angel huffed. 

“I ain’t kissin’ you if you eat that shit.”

“No sex and now no kisses? Rude.” Angel grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed it into his mouth before popping a couple pieces of the candy in as well. He gave Husk a smug smirk before leaning forward to kiss the cat’s cheek. Husk couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Little shit.

“Just start the damn movie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Angel leaned back against one of the arms of the couch, kicking his socked feet up onto Husk’s lap as the opening credits began to roll. 

* * *

It was almost strange, watching this movie with Angel after so many years. Husk thought it would be… Uncomfortable? Maybe awaken those grief like feelings that used to sit in his chest any time he was reminded of Anthony. But nothing of the sort happened at all.

Watching a movie with Angel felt just as comfortable as anything. Even with the movies he had chosen. Husk could remember seeing Frankenstein with Anthony all those years ago. And he could vaguely remember Tony dragging him to any number of musicals after they had gotten together; they had been some of the blonde man's favorites to go to. 

Husk knew that Charlie had plenty of dvds at the hotel to choose from. Not to mention the fact that Angel could have just chosen something off of Voxflix. But instead, Angel had actually taken the time to find films that had meant something to the two of them. From before. It was a small way for Angel to show that he remembered Husk. That he remembered Henry.

“Why is he walking into the door backwards?” Angel snickered at the screen.

“It’s for dramatic effect,” Husk rolled his eyes as he took another bite of popcorn.

“Dramatic, my ass, he looks ridiculous.”

“The guy had to wear a forty-two pound costume in the middle of summer, it’s not supposed to look smooth.”

“Why the fuck do you know how much his costume weighed?”

Husk crossed his arms and huffed, “It’s trivia. Screw you.”

“You’re a fountain of knowledge,” Angel said dryly. He turned his attention to the screen before a sly grin crossed his face, “I got a very serious question for ya, kitty cat.

“What?” Husk looked over at Angel with a bemused expression.

“Fuck, Mary, Kill: Boris Karloff, Lon Chaney Jr., Bela Lugosi?”

“Angel, that ain’t a serious question.”

“Oh ho, I think you’re just afraid ta answer.”

“Fine,” Husk thought for a moment before shooting Angel a suspicious glance, “In or out of makeup.”

“Out of makeup, I’m not that much of a sadist.”

The movies definitely weren’t lost on Husk. But it was the cheeky comments that reminded him that he was watching them with Angel now.

“Uhhhh… Fuck Bela Lugosi, Marry Boris Karloff, Kill Lon Chaney Jr.”

“Really.” Angel sat up, grinning, “Reasons?”

“You’re really gonna keep pushin’ this, aren’t you?”

“It’s for my own personal collection of Husky Trivia,” Angel’s gold tooth flashed as he scooted closer to the cat.

“You’re missin’ the movie,” He said with a small laugh.

“And I’ll get back to it in a sec. Ya can’t just look me in the face and tell me you’d fuck Bela Lugosi and then not tell me _why._ ”

“I said out of those _three_ I’d fuck Bela Lugosi,” Husk let his head rest against his fist, looking at Angel out of the corner of his eye. The spider looked like he was uncovering some great, hidden treasure.

“C’mooooon Husk,” Angel grabbed the old cat’s arm, shaking it lightly, “Tell meeeeeee.”

“Boris Karloff is a committed son of a bitch who busted his ass to get this film done, so obviously marry him. Bela Lugosi is the most attractive out of all of them but he couldn’t get steady work cuz of his accent. And Lon Chaney Jr’s not my type,” He smirked.

Angel gave Husk a cheeky grin, scooting so he was pressed up against the cat.

“So, what is your type then?” He purred.

“Irritating spider, apparently,” Husk grumbled, “Watch the movie, Angel.”

Angel laid his head against Husk’s shoulder, settling against him more. There was only a moment of silence though.

“I can’t believe you wanna fuck Dracula,” Angel said quietly.

Husk sat up more to pull out the pillow he was leaning against and lightly hit Angel with it.

“No, no!” Angel laughed, holding his hands up to catch the pillow, “I need to know if I need to pick up vampire fangs from the studio.”

“Angel, watch the fuckin’ movie!”

“It does explain why ya like bitin’ me so much, though.”

Husk shook his head, reaching forward to grab his drink. Still, he couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face.  
  


* * *

Angel only teased Husk for about half the movie. Husk was just as quick to tease him back. It was fun. Nice even. It had been so long since Angel had had a movie night with anyone other than Cherri. At least not one that involved actually watching a movie. He’d been taken to movie theaters by clients to fool around plenty of times.

But Husk hadn’t wanted that. Not tonight at least. It was a complete change of pace from how they normally were. Before they hooked up and after.

As the opening credits began to roll for the next film, Angel made himself comfortable, moving to put his head on Husk’s lap. Normally he would be hesitant to do something this intimate with a guy - mostly because they’d probably expect a blowjob out of it - but with Husk it felt natural. Angel’s eyelids were starting to feel heavy, might as well use the cat as a pillow.

When Jimmy Stewart’s name popped up on the screen, Husk gave an annoyed grunt.

“So what _is_ your damn problem with Jimmy Stewart anyways?” Angel didn’t remember Hus-Henry having a problem with this actor when they were younger but memories were spotty. He might as well ask.

“His face bothers me.”

“His face bothers ya?”

“Yeah. Just…a very punchable face,” Husk shrugged, “Eleanor Powell is the only redeemable part of this movie.”

“Oh really, can I quote you on that?”

“You can absolutely quote me on that.”

Angel felt his eyes begin to drift shut, but forced them back open as the music soared again. He felt Husk give a small chuckle as claws scratched through the spider’s hair comfortingly. Angel’s eyes slowly began to close once more and he let out a pleased hum.

It was odd, feeling so safe. Usually, Angel wouldn’t dare let himself get like this in such an open place. Trusting Husk was easy, being so vulnerable with him was a little harder. But he was too sleepy to fight it right now.

“Ugh, I hate this woman,” Husk grumbled. Angel opened one of his eyes enough to see Virginia Bruce enter with her smushed-face dog. He let out a small laugh, eyes closing again.

“Another punchable face?”

“Nah, it’s this song,” Husk said, hand moving to trace up and down the pink demon’s arm in long, gentle strokes. Angel gave a sleepy smile. 

“I could sing a three minute song about Nuggets. I fuckin’ could. He deserves it.”

“No. Do not do that.”

“Love me, love my ‘pork’anese...”

“Dammit Angel, no!” Husk chuckled, looking down to see how quickly the spider was fading, “You’re doin’ that thing where you’re so tired you start talkin’ out of your ass more than usual.”

“So what?”

“We can call it a night.”

“But I like this movie. And you like my ass.”

“Fine, we’ll finish the damn thing. Can’t get up with you layin’ on me anyhow.”

Angel pulled Husk’s arm closer, draping it over his shoulder securely, “No. No ya can’t.” the spider demon paused for a second and then let out another mumbled, sleep-ridden confession. A thought he couldn’t keep to himself at the brink of consciousness, “Y’know, you can’t lie ta me, Husky. It’s okay if this is a date.”

Angel passed out a few minutes later. The combined effect of eating half his weight in popcorn, laying on Husk’s lap, and the way that Husk kept rubbing a paw up and down his shoulder had him out like a light. Husk had stopped paying attention to the film as soon as he felt Angel twitch in his sleep. He felt his eyes drawn more to Angel’s resting face more than the scene in the park. They could always watch the movie again later, anyway.

 _“I know too well that I’m just wasting precious time; in thinking such a thing could be, that you could ever care for me…”_ Jimmy Stewart’s voice sailed out of the speakers on the TV and Husk turned his attention to the demon asleep on his lap.

_“I know you hate to hear that I adore you dear. But grant me just the same, I’m not entirely to blame...”_

Husk ran a hand through Angel’s hair, pushing it away from his face. Angel merely snuggled more firmly against the cat’s leg, letting out a quiet sigh. The spider demon had fallen asleep next to him so many times in the past three weeks, but for some reason this felt different. Usually when Angel fell asleep like this they were behind the safe barrier of the spider’s bedroom door. But now? Anyone had access to this room. To have Angel let his guard down like this in such a public place…

“ _For you’d be so easy to love, so easy to idolize all others above. So worth the yearning for, so swell to keep any home fire burning for…"_

It wasn’t lost on Husk. Not even for a moment. Between the movies that Angel had chosen, the way they were able to talk, to the way that Angel fell asleep… He could admit that it felt like something more than just having fun.

_“We’d be so grand at the game, so carefree together that it does seem a shame. That you can’t see your future with me, ‘cause you’d be oh so easy to love"_

Husk’s eyes flicked between the screen and Angel. He looked so fucking peaceful. Relaxed. All the tension that the demon usually carried with him seemed to melt away when he was asleep. He was beautiful. Not beautiful like Anthony, but beautiful like Angel. Husk couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

“Fuckin’ hell… got me fallin’ for ya again, don’tcha?” He muttered half under his breath. He could feel his heart tug in that all familiar way. Somewhere between just caring and falling further.The same way he felt the first time he remembered holding Anthony so many years ago. And here they were again.

He couldn’t tell Angel, of course. He knew that. Angel Dust didn’t need to deal with his emotional crap. He didn’t need to give him that weird “I more than like you but don’t love you” bullshit. Husk was used to hiding how he was feeling, anyway. He’d just let it be. At least he could have Angel like this in some way. That could be enough.

A small oink from the other side of the couch made Husk turn. Nuggets stared at him and tilted his head just a bit with another snuffle. The old cat pointed at the pig, “You keep your mouth shut about this.”

Nuggets merely scooted closer to Husk to lick the claw that was pointed. Husk sighed and scratched the pig’s head.

_“Cause you’d be oh so easy to love…”_

“Yeah, I know you’ll keep my secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations:  
> 1\. You're an annoying son of a bitch. 
> 
> Rocky's History Corner:  
> 1\. Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and Lon Chenney Jr. were all actors involved with Unviersal Studios' classic monster movies. Boris Karloff was Frankenstein, Bela Lugosi was Dracula, and Lon Chenney Jr. played The Wolf Man. All three actors did play Frankenstein at some point in their career.  
> 2\. The second movie that these boys watch is called Born to Dance staring Eleanor Powell and Jimmy Stewart. It was one of Jimmy Stewart's first major film roles. Fred Astaire often called Eleanor Powell the best in the business, she was an extremely talented triple threat.  
> 3\. Frankenstein originally came out in 1931, making it a Pre-Code movie. Pre-code movies had no rules for censorship as far as content went. Born to Dance on the other hand was made in 1936, after the Production Code Administration was put into place in 1934. The PCA was the precursor for the MPAA rating system that we have in the United States today.  
> 4\. Frankenstein was originally banned in the state of Kansas on the basis that it exhibited "cruelty and tended to debase morals".  
> 5\. The music in Born To Dance was written by Cole Porter who also wrote famous songs such as "Anything Goes", "I've Got You Under My Skin", "You're the Top", "I Get a Kick out of You", and "Night and Day" 
> 
> The two songs from Born to Dance can be found here  
> [Love Me, Love My Pekingese](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iFojx9eDXCw)  
> [Easy To Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=og81d496h4s) (we included the version of Easy to Love we put on the WWMA playlist)
> 
> Where to Find Us:  
> Rainbowpandas  
> Twitter: @rainbowpandas23  
> 18+ Twitter: @rainbowopandas
> 
> Rockyrants:  
> Twitter: @rocky_rants  
> 18+ Twitter: @rocky_ropes 
> 
> Art by @hntrgurl13
> 
> If you would like to join the WWMA/18+ Huskerdust server, please send us a DM on twitter! You must be 18 or older to join due to the content of this fic.


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